Jedi?
by Spotted.Newt
Summary: Anakin Skywalker is sent on a top secret spy mission to an unnamed but influential Separatist planet. It's a risky operation, and all but one Jedi to set foot on said planet have died. Not only that, but Anakin must pose as one of the people he hates the most: a slaver. After 'befriending' the planet's Queen, Anakin finds a shocking secret. One of the Queen's slaves is a... Jedi?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Hello, Riksha. Or should I say, _Master_ Noabbaa?" A tall man of about 40 years entered the ship's briefing room. He had a kind, knowing smile and compassionate hazel eyes which currently gleamed with joy. His skin was lightly tanned, and his dark brown hair was neatly cut. He wore dark chestnut robes that fell just above his knees, and made a faint swishing sound as he walked across the threshold. His pants were a lighter brown, and his knee-high boots were slightly redder in tone than his robe. Classic Jedi armor was present, the Republic symbol painted in clear red on the shoulder plate. A white and silver lightsaber sat on his hip, clipped to a belt.

Chestnut colored gloves covered his hands, and as he entered the room he called out a cheerful greeting and crossed his arms. "I do believe you had your knighting ceremony three months ago?" His voice contained a hint of pride, which could not be hidden even by his peculiar accent. It sounded as though it were Scottish, Spanish, and English all at once mixed with the calm disposition of a leopard in a combination that could be soothing, encouraging, authoritative, reassuring, and cheerful as needed. It was the kind of voice you hear and immediately feel as though you can trust.

A 19-year-old adolescent stood beside a hologram, which she had been examining before this man entered the room. Her chocolate colored eyes lit up when she heard his voice, a smile appearing on her lips. She lifted her head, turning it so that she was looking at the man. "Hello, Master," she replied. She was a bit shorter than him, standing at a height of around five feet five inches. Her hair was about 12 inches in length, and the color of dark pinecones. It was not done up in any fancy style, instead flowing freely about her shoulders, with only a simple inside-out braid that ran across the top and fell across her left shoulder. She wore dark tan pants, the color of a deer's pelt, and her shirt was short-sleeved, just a shade or two darker than her pants. Her arm guards were mahogany, matching her boots. Her lightsaber was silver, with a black grip. "Yes, it was."

"I am sorry I couldn't make it. As I'm sure you were told, I was negotiating a difficult treaty at that time," the man, who was named Qyu-Lyen, apologized. He strode over to where she stood beside the hologram, looking at the large blue image.

"It's alright, Qyu-Lyen. The treaty was important for the Republic," Riksha assured him.

"This is our new mission I take it?" The hologram made a faint buzzing sound, and the image flickered every now and then.

"Yes. It isn't supposed to be too hard, or at least not any harder than the other invasions the Republic has staged," Riksha pointed to a small planet on the far edge of the hologram, then zoomed in on it. "This is the planet we are traveling to. It has no proper name, popular rumor being that the Queen couldn't decide on a name so she decided not to name the planet."

"How strange... Well, I suppose a name isn't so important, in the grand scheme of things," Qyu-Lyen commented. He zoomed in on the planet even farther, rotating the hologram so that the underside of the planet was facing them. "The Southern Hemisphere is our target. The Separatists have built a droid factory there, although it is not quite finished."

"How did you know that?"

"I did my research," came the amused and somewhat playful reply. "Did you do yours?"

"You taught me well, master. I did indeed. The goal is to take out that factory, which is also the Separatist base. Then, once we have control of the Southern Hemisphere, we can negotiate with the Queen and try to convince her to sign a treaty with the Republic," Riksha paused a moment, glancing over at Qyu-Lyen for confirmation. He nodded.

"If we can gain control of this planet, we will be able to put a serious damper on the slave trade market. That market is very popular among the neighboring systems, this planet being the capital. Because of the strict laws forbidding trade to planets that are not under Separatist 'protection', the systems are quickly turning to the Separatists so that they can trade," Qyu-Lyen shook his head, giving a disappointed sigh. "It is too bad..."

Riksha agreed, her formally cheerful eyes turning gloomy. "The slave trade market is awful, especially on these planets."

Qyu-Lyen had been bent over, leaning closer to the hologram while he moved things around and pressed buttons and such. Now, he straightened up, turning to his former padawan. "That is why we must succeed. Taking this planet would not only be a huge help for the Republic, but it would help so many innocent people who have been forced to serve."

Riksha nodded in agreement. The two of them discussed for several more minutes, working out how exactly they planned to go about taking the base. After a good deal of discussion, it was decided that Riksha would plant bombs in the main reactor. Then, with their source of reinforcements gone, the remaining droids could easily be defeated.

"An air drop would be ideal, but I highly doubt that any of our ships can get close enough to the base for you to jump onto the building," Qyu-Lyen mused.

"I could borrow one of the native people's vessels. Nobody would suspect that a Jedi was aboard. I could easily sneak past the enemy lines, get through the ray-sheild, and get to the factory. Then, I could use the air ventilation system to get to the main reactor and plant the bombs," Riksha suggested as she studied the hologram that showed a map of the battlefield.

Qyu-Lyen thought this over. "You are clever. I suppose that might work. You would have to get out quickly and set off the bombs, before you were noticed."

Coming to an agreement on a plan, the hologram was turned off, just as a clone trooper came up to the two Jedi. "Sir, the captain instructed me to tell you that we are coming out of hyperspace."

"Thank you," Qyu-Lyen said.

The trooper turned and walked out, with both Jedi following. It was not long before the Republic Cruiser came out of hyperspace and entered the atmosphere of the planet. Nearly instantly, they were met with heavy fire as they entered the battle zone. It was much more intense than any of them had anticipated, with droids swarming the ground and several Seperatist ships patrolling the air. This battle had been raging for several days, with no progress on the Republic's side. If anything, they were loosing the battle by the looks of things.

Footsteps rang out through the ship corridors as clones, Qyu-Lyen, and Riksha ran to board the gunships. These lifted off, flying as quickly as they could out and away from the cruiser. One of the ships was shot down within the first 60 seconds of flight, and the rest were not faring much better. Shots pounded relentlessly at the ships, taking down another mere moments later. Despite this, the two Jedi were surprisingly calm. A few of the younger clones glanced over at the generals, but when they saw the emotionless expressions they wore the anxious clones turned their heads back to face forward.

Miraculously, the ship landed in one piece. Clones burst out of the gunship, lead by two lightsaber-wielding Jedi. Barely more than a blur of green, the lightsabers cut down droids and deflected blasts at the will of their possessors.

"I did not expect this much resistance!" Yelled Qyu-Lyen, over the noise of the furious battle.

"Me neither! I wonder why we weren't informed of this!" Riksha called back.

"Perhaps the communications has been jammed!"

"I suppose that is possible!"

It wasn't just droids that attacked, but many squadrons of native troops as well. There was an attacker coming from every direction it seemed. Droids marched out of the factory, natives leaped out from behind the rock formations, and both rained down from the air.

"Riksha! If you're going to shut down that factory, you must hurry!"

"I'm on it!" Riksha charged forwards, clearing a path for herself with the Force and a lightsaber. A few clones ran along behind her, tossing a droid popper every now and then when the resistance got heavy. They weren't running for the base; rather, they were heading towards a towering rock formation. Their best bet at getting a small ship was to go to one of the many caves such ships were zooming out of. Leaving the clones at the base of the pillar for their own safety, Riksha force-leapt up to the cave. Inside were dozens of small aircraft, most of which already had pilots. It would definitely be difficult to get one, though not impossible. Ducking behind boulders and dashing skillfully across the cave, Riksha managed to make her way to an empty ship. Well, nearly empty. Just as she was climbing in, the ship's pilot arrived. He gave a yell in some foreign language, and before she could think to react the other ships were firing at hers. Hurriedly, she pressed a few buttons, causing the ship to rise off the ground and then burst out of the cave. She glanced back behind, where two of the other ships were in hot pursuit of her.

_Pew! Pew pew pew!_ Riksha banked left, to avoid the shots that had been fired at her. Then she banked right, then spun, then rose steeply upward and dove back down again. It was quite a display, though it drew the attention of more enemies. In order to shake the two ships following her, Riksha directed her aircraft directly at one of the stone pillars. At the last second she pulled up, the belly of the ship nearly scraping against the stone. She heard a satisfying explosion, telling her that her followers had crashed.

Leveling out her ship, Riksha directed it on a course for the droid factory. She glanced down at the ground briefly, where she caught a glimpse of Qyu-Lyen fighting alongside an army of clones. From up here, the young Jedi could see that the Republic troops were sorely outnumbered. The realization hit her that if she failed, there was a very good chance none of them would be going home alive. Literally thousands of lives were resting upon her, including her own and that of her former teacher. She had to succeed. Failure would be fatal.

The small agile aircraft zig-zagged between rock formations, soon coming to rest on top of one that was very near the Seperatist base. It would be too obvious if she were to land right beside the large building, and so Riksha left her vessel out of view. She climbed down the formation in a series of force-jumps, landing in a crouching position at the bottom. Straightening up, she raced for the black building that was in the shadow of only the sky scraper type rock pillars. It was lucky that she wore clothing that was in shades of brown and tan, as the rocky landscape was very similar in hue. There was little to no vegetation in the area, no doubt wiped out by the Seperatists. Not that it looked like there could have been much before, what with the dust and rocky ground.

It was actually easier than anticipated to reach the factory; it was ray-shielded, and so it did not require as many droid guards as otherwise. There was a steady stream of droids hot off the assembly line marching from the wide mouth of the factory, but they did not stray from their formation. They marched along one path, breaking off only once they made it to the rock formations. Riksha dashed stealthily across the space that separated her from the factory, ducking behind a boulder every now and again. It was not long before she was standing with her back pressed against a sleek black wall of the factory, undetected by the droids. After a quick glance around, she plunged the green blade of her lightsaber deep into the wall, near the ground, cutting a small opening into the ventilation system. The adolescent got down on her hands and knees, crawling through the opening and lifting the piece of wall into place behind her. Then, she set off through the tunnel towards the main reactor, reaching it in a matter of minutes.

After peering down through the grate at the room to be sure it was empty, Riksha lifted the grate and placed it to the side. She then jumped down, landing nearly silently. Moving quickly, she placed about a dozen bombs, which beeped faintly as she pressed the button to activate the countdown. Once the last one was in place, she turned to leap back into the ventilation system, only to find a cloaked figure standing before her. Where did that being come from? Riksha had been careful to use the force to be sure there were no life forms in the room. Cautiously, the Jedi drew her lightsaber, holding it out in front of her.

The figure simply chuckled. "You will not do much good with that," a voice said from under the hood. "Nor will your puny bombs cause the destruction of this factory."

"I am certain you are mistaken," Riksha replied. By now, the two were walking in a wide circle about each other, much like two warriors do before a face off. "I will destroy this factory and free this planet."

"My dear, you are so young and talented... And foolish." The figure reached under their cloak, to reach for what Riksha assumed would be a weapon, but turned out to be a small remote. "It's such a shame I have to kill you now, it would have been so fun to duel first. But we can't always get what we want can we?"

"Interesting, I don't recall putting dying on my to-do list," Riksha replied calmly, though she was a bit nervous. The longer she stayed here, the closer the bombs got to 00:00.

Laughing again, the being pressed a button on the device he or she was holding. Instantly, Riksha's bombs stopped their countdown. Perplexed, Riksha looked over at her bombs and then at the device that rested in the gloved hands of this shadowy enemy. How did that device shut off her bombs? Her thought was interrupted by a very loud beeping, much louder than all of the small bombs combined. Confusion turned to horror, as the young Jedi used the force to tear a panel off the reactor. Underneath she saw a large, red, flashing bulb. The entire thing was a bomb! Turning, she ran, forgetting the figure (who had disappeared anyway) and focusing on one thing. Getting out of here.

Riksha had barely made it out of the room and into a hallway when the main reactor hall lit up like a fiery inferno, the blast throwing the young Jedi off her feet and smashing her into a solid door. The door didn't remain solid for long, nor did any part of the factory.

Meanwhile, Qyu-Lyen swung his lightsaber, slicing a super battle droid right down the middle. A sudden nearly deafening sound resounded across the battlefield, and droids and clones alike turned their heads. They witnessed the black factory explode, looking much the way a building does in the movies when it is destroyed by a huge bomb. There was a smokey grey and orange burst, leaping up into the sky and tumbling across the ground like an angry cloud. Qyu-Lyen and his men braced themselves for the shock wave and cloud of dust that followed the blast, pressing themselves against the backsides of the rock formations. Once the dust had cleared, little bits of the factory rained down around them, though most of the larger pieces had already fallen closer to where the factory once stood. Qyu-Lyen sheathed his lightsaber, since the droids had all been swept away by the shock wave. He came out from behind the rock pillar, looking at the smoking and burning mess. Despite the calamity, the Jedi smiled.

"You've done it, Riksha. Great job," he spoke into the communicator on his wrist, holding his arm up near his face, praising his former apprentice.

There was no response.

"Riksha?" Asked Qyu-Lyen, his smile fading quickly into a look of worry. "Riksha, where are you?"

Silence was all that replied. Miraculously, the communicator attached to Riksha's wrist was barely damaged, and his voice came loud and clear over the device. But the same could not be said for the young Jedi, who (unbeknownst to Qyu-Lyen) lay crumpled among the wreckage of the factory.

Qyu-Lyen dropped his arm to his side, and stared out across the expanse of the battlefield. He tried to pick up on her life force signal, closing his eyes as he searched for it. Meditation was not necessary to feel a person's life force, as it is very easy to detect. That is how a Jedi knows when a life form is nearby. But Qyu-Lyen found only a very weak signal, which then quickly faded to nothing. His former student was dead.

Or so he thought.

Riksha was in fact not dead, but dangerously close to it. She was teetering on the edge between life and death, and in her condition anyone could predict the outcome. But in an unexpected turn of events, a small ship landed among the wreckage. Out of the ship burst several natives to the planet, who appeared to be medical personnel. They found Riksha and lifted her onto a stretcher, hurriedly loading her onto the ship before taking off nearly as quickly as they had come.

Back where Qyu-Lyen stood, a much more hostile group arrived. The death of his beloved former student struck a huge blow, but Qyu-Lyen did not let this interfere with his fighting ability. He fought just as strongly as before, but it was not enough to defeat this group. The Jedi was taken hostage, and locked up in a cell. He was a pawn in a plot they had, and for now they needed him to be locked up.

* * *

><p>A pair of brown eyes flickered open, only to shut again as bright light overwhelmed them. Slowly, Riksha opened her eyes again, squinting as they adjusted to the bright light. Where was she? What had happened? Why was she here? She went to sit up, but instantly lay back down as pain shot through her body. She felt as though she were being burned alive, but different. The feeling was more of an intense aching than burning, and in places she felt as though she were being jabbed by a thousand needles. It was then they she noticed the oxygen mask on her face, and that her surroundings were mostly a sanitary white color. As her mind began to clear and make sense of her situation, she realized she was in some sort of medical room. But why? That's when she remembered, (almost) everything flooding back to her.<p>

She had been fighting, alongside clones and her former Master Qyu-Lyen. They were trying to take the planet, to liberate it from separatist rule. Qyu-Lyen had sent her on a mission, to get inside the building the separatists had claimed as their stronghold, and plant bombs to destroy it. But something had gone wrong... The details were still fuzzy, as she tried to recall what had taken place. Riksha remembered an explosion, being hurtled through the air, and then nothing.

The question now was, who had rescued her?

She heard the door open, and turned her head slightly to see who it was. Even this small movement was painful. The Queen entered the room, which answered her question about who had rescued her and where she was. Though Riksha had never met the Queen, the stories and descriptions she had read matched this woman perfectly.

The woman was tall and lean, reminding Riksha of a Kaminoan, except with proportions similar to a human. Her skin was similar in hue to a chameleon, the same lovely green. Five dark evergreen colored horns protruded from the Queen's head, attached above the forehead where a hairline might be and curling neatly over her head as though they were hair or a special hat of sorts. The horns were rather flattish, sitting snugly against the cranium, and only long enough to reach the shoulders. There, they curled up a bit, only adding to their hair-like appearance. The Queen's eyes were the same dark green, and her emotions could be fairly easily read if one looked at her eyes closely enough.

The Queen was clothed in a long dress, which was a pale gold color and detailed with intricate designs. It had an interesting cut, layered in a spiral with wavy edges. A dark tan fur rested around her shoulders, spotted and resembling the pelt of a leopard. Strings of pearls adorned the woman's neck, as well as her horns and wrists. All of these looked very expensive, obviously signifying the wealth of the planet's ruler.

Riksha looked at the Queen with a suspicious gaze. Why would someone intent on destroying Jedi rescue one?

"Good, you're awake," The Queen said in her signature cheerful and self-important voice. "We were beginning to think you wouldn't make it. You've been teetering on the edge of death for several days now."

Several days? She had been out that long? No wonder she was so disoriented.

"Anywho, I've got a little decision for you to make. A business proposal, you could call it."

Well, she was about to find out what the Queen wanted. There was no way anyone in this planet would save her life without knowing they could get something in return.

"You see, you weren't the only we captured. We got the other Jedi too."

No. Not Qyu-Lyen.

"You have two choices. One, you stay with me as my newest servant, and I release your friend. Or two, you refuse and you both die."

Some choice that was.

"I am an honorable business woman, and I know you Jedi are honorable as well. If you give your word that you will stay, I trust you will keep it. Likewise, I promise your Jedi friend would be released."

The Queen watched Riksha, with an almost scrutinizing gaze. Riksha thought over her choices. She couldn't bear the thought of her former master being killed by these people. As are most padawans, Riksha was terribly loyal to him even after being knighted. There was a special bond that is shared between a padawan and their master, a bond not easily broken. Taking in a shaky, painful breath, Riksha responded.

"I'll stay."

* * *

><p><strong>There is a good chance you are quite confused at the moment, so allow me to explain what you just read. This takes place two years before Anakin is sent to the unnamed planet. This was the first mission to the planet, which as you can see failed. You will understand this better once you have read a few chapters of the story, but this prologue contains a lot of important information so I recommend reading it.<strong>

**Also, this story takes place during the same time period as the third Star Wars movie. This prologue takes place during the Clone Wars. In this story, Anakin allowed Mace Windu to kill Darth Sidious, and thus never became Darth Vader. Anakin never married Padmé, and the two have always been just friends. Anakin stayed with the Jedi Order, though he still has not become a Master because he has not trained any padawans all the way to Knighthood. **


	2. A New Mission

_It has been about two years since that first mission to the unnamed planet. Qyu-Lyen was released, though he was led to believe that he had escaped. He__ reported back to the Council of Riksha's death, and a funeral was performed__. Riksha stayed on the planet, where she recovered from her injuries and was made into a slave. She was kept by the Queen as one of her personal slaves, working in the large palace at the center of the planet's largest city. _

_Two more attempts to liberate the planet were performed by the Republic, but all failed. Not a single Jedi survived out of these attempts, Qyu-Lyen becoming the only Jedi to ever leave the planet alive. After such devastating defeats, the Republic avoided that planet for a year. Now, attentions have once again turned to the unnamed planet._

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 1<span>**

"This doesn't look good."

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was talking to the Jedi Council, regarding a small separatist controlled planet. It seemed that the planet was a center for the slave trade market. This gave them a leverage among other Separatist controlled planets, thus making the Republic's job that much more difficult. Not only that, but many neutral planets in the area, tempted by the profits of the market, were turning towards the Separatists.

"No, it does not," agreed Master Windu. "But there is hope. If we liberate the planet, there is a chance that other planets will follow in resisting the Separatists."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard, thinking about this. "It has been about a year since our last attempt at liberating this planet. If I recall correctly, it did not go well."

"Correct, you are. But try again, we must," Master Yoda replied. "Formulate a plan, you will, to bring victory."

"Master Yoda, with all due respect we don't have the resources to launch a full scale invasion. Nor do we have the Jedi to spare to oversee this operation," Obi-Wan pointed out. "In fact, the only Jedi we could spare for such a thing is Anakin."

There was a murmur that passed around the members of the Council. Obi-Wan stood in the center of the room, waiting for the Council to come to a decision. It was Yoda who spoke when they had quieted down. "Able to handle such a mission, do you think young Skywalker is?"

Master Kenobi was silent for a moment, thinking about it. "Well, he does have a knack for beating impossible odds."

"Then go, he will," Yoda concluded. "Prepare him, you must."

"I will do my best," Obi-Wan replied, bowing respectfully to the council before turning and exiting. This was a very risky operation, but if anyone could do it it was Anakin. After walking for a few moments down the hall in silence, Obi-Wan contacted Anakin. Pressing a button on his com link, he spoke into the small device. "Anakin? I have a new mission for you. If you would meet me in the briefing room, it would be much appreciated."

There was a long period of silence, before a reply came through. "Will do, master. I'm on my way."

Anakin had been in the hanger, fiddling with a ship. He was rather bored, since he was currently not assigned to any mission. In fact, he was quite glad that Obi-Wan had contacted him. He slid out from underneath the ship, standing and striding through the hanger and into the temple. He walked down a complex of hallways, before arriving at the briefing room Obi-Wan had asked him to meet him at. The door was open, and Anakin entered, smiling. "What's the mission?" He asked, a hint of eagerness on his tone.

Obi-Wan, who had been studying a hologram thoughtfully, looked up. "It certainly took you long enough to get here."

"Sorry master, I was fixing up a small ship," Anakin responded, as he leaned against the doorframe. "I couldn't exactly leave the engine lying on the ground while I came to talk with you."

"What in the world were you doing that required the engine to be on the ground?" Obi-Wan asked, though he knew he would probably regret asking.

"Well, I was modifying it..."

"I thought you said you were _fixing_ the ship."

Anakin avoided Obi-Wan's gaze. The older Jedi was now standing, arms crossed, looking suspiciously at him. "Don't you have a mission you wanted to talk to me about?" He asked quickly, avoiding explaining what he had been doing.

Obi-Wan sighed, figuring he wouldn't really want to know what Anakin had been up to. "Yes, I do."

He turned back to the hologram, and Anakin walked over to look at it as well. He stood across from his former master, looking at him expectantly.

"You remember the small planet, the one that has oddly gone without a name?"

Anakin nodded. "Sure I do. It's that one that is practically the capital of the slave trade market." He said these words with a bit of bitterness in his voice. "That place is full of despicable people, forcing the innocent victims of the war to serve them."

Already, Obi-Wan was beginning to question whether Anakin was really a good person to send on this mission. He could sense a deep rooted anger within the younger Jedi, which he still had not managed to fully conquer. "That's the one," he said, speaking with caution so that he wouldn't cause Anakin's anger to surface. The young man had been a slave as a boy, and so the topic was rather delicate for him.

"What's the matter Obi-Wan? I can sense anxiety from you. Let me guess, the mission has to do with this planet," Anakin said.

"Yes, the mission has to do with this planet," the Jedi master confirmed. "The Jedi Council has decided that it is time to try and liberate it again."

Anakin was, to be honest, surprised by this. "Didn't half a dozen Jedi _die_ on the previous attempts?"

"That is correct."

"Then why are they trying again? It's been a year since the last attempt, I thought everyone was too afraid to go back."

Obi-Wan held up his hands. "Slow down Anakin."

Anakin complied, closing his mouth and crossing his arms as he waited for Obi-Wan to explain. Why would the Jedi Council try to do this? It was suicide to send anyone to that planet. As much as he hated slavery and despised that filthy planet, the Jedi Masters must be crazy to think they would have better luck this time than any other time. That was saying something for Anakin, since he was usually the kind of person who would persist until he couldn't anymore.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, before he spoke. "The planet has grown massively influential. It was quite influential before, but now it is even stronger. Every day the Separatists gain control over more planets, who are eager to do business with the unnamed planet." He paused, watching Anakin carefully.

Anakin tried to remain cool and collected, but it was difficult. It always bothered him when he heard about slavery, when he thought of people being treated like worthless dirt, being sold like animals for profit, and being disposed of like they were merely expendable objects. "So this planet, it is a big threat to the Republic." Was all he said, as he worked to keep his emotions in check.

Nodding, Obi-Wan continued. "Yes. The longer that planet stays under Separatist control, the more power the Separatists gain, and the longer this war is drawn out. If we can stop that planet now, we can deal a major blow to the Separatists, and end this war that much sooner. Not to mention all the people we can help."

"I see now why the Jedi Council is so set on liberating the planet," Anakin stated. "What is the plan? And where do I come in? You wouldn't have called me if I wasn't a part of the mission."

"Well actually, you _are_ the mission, and a top secret one at that," Master Kenobi said. Seeing the confused look on his former apprentice's face, he elaborated. "It has been decided that instead of sending an army, only you will be sent to the planet. We need an advantage if we want to win this battle. You must go, and gather information for us. You're job is not to try and free the planet on your own, but to work undercover to uncover the secrets that will allow us to attack again and win." Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin, to be sure the information was being processed.

Anakin looked at the hologram of the planet that was between him and Obi-Wan, listening to the explanation. He would be going alone, to that filthy planet. The thought was a little unsettling, but he was not the sort to back down from a challenge. "I'll do it, Obi-Wan. I'll act as a Republic spy, gather information, and free that planet," he said with a very determined look on his face.

"It will not be that easy," Obi-Wan warned, "The planet is very dangerous, and in all our attempts at liberation all clones and all but one Jedi that were sent have died. It is clear that the native people are loyal to the Separatists. If we are to be successful this time, we must work precisely and carefully."

"So what's your plan, assuming you have one?" Anakin inquired. He was aware it would be dangerous, but he faced danger all the time. It didn't worry him much, what worried him was how well he could control his emotions.

"I have decided that our best tactic is actually one we used in the past. Remember when we had to rescue the Togruta people? You posed as a slave trader, and were welcomed by the queen of that planet. By my calculations, the same tactic should work on this planet as well. The only major differences are that you are not on a rescue mission, and that I will not be joining you. If you become friends with the Queen, your job will become much easier. She must trust you. "

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Oh great, I have to be friends with another slaver Queen," he said somewhat sarcastically. Obi-Wan gave him a look, to which Anakin replied, "don't worry, I'll do it."

Obi-Wan turned off the hologram. "I suppose you should get going then. The sooner you complete this mission, the better."

Anakin nodded, and the pair walked out of the briefing room and towards the hanger. A ship had already been prepped and was waiting. He climbed into the ship, settling down and began pressing buttons. Obi-Wan watched, standing beside the ship while Anakin set a course for the unnamed planet. "Do be careful, and try not to get yourself killed," the older Jedi said.

Anakin smirked. "Don't worry master, I haven't gotten killed on any of my missions yet. I don't plan to start here.'

Obi-Wan gave a slight smile. "Good luck then. Try to call every now and then, if you have anything to report. No one is going to contact you, as that could potentially cause problems."

Anakin nodded in understanding. "I will, master."

With that, the ship lifted off the ground, flying out of the hanger. Obi-Wan Kenobi was left standing there, watching as the ship flew off into the distance. He pressed the button on his com link. "May the Force be with you."

The young Jedi heard this, and smiled. He wouldn't let Obi-Wan down. Pressing another button, the ship jumped to hyperspace.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter is rather short, I know. There will be longer chapters to come, I promise. Reviews would be helpful, let me know if you like the story storyline and if you want me to continue. **


	3. Arrival

**Chapter 2**

Anakin pushed a lever forward, as his small unmarked ship came out of hyperspace. A tan and tawny planet loomed in front of him, causing his heart rate to quicken. There it was. The unnamed planet, the center of the slave trade market. The death place of about half a dozen Jedi and thousands of clones. It didn't look horrible from out here in space, but the sight of it still made his skin crawl. Pressing another button, his ship drew nearer, entering the atmosphere.

Once he made it through, Anakin took a look at the planet. He was in the Northern hemisphere, as this was the most populated part of the planet. It was also the part that had the Queen's palace, which Anakin could clearly see. It was an interesting shape, to say the least. It appeared to consist of a series of medieval style round towers, looking much like an two conjoined upside down pan flutes, with the tallest tower in the center and three shorter towers on either side. Surrounding the palace was a large city, with apartments and other such buildings packed fairly tightly together. Yet the streets were fairly wide. Surrounding the city was very tall gated wall, though it had been very artistically made and looked more like a series of arches than anything. These arches had metal grates in them, looking much like medieval gates. But the real gate was not like these. It sat between two watch towers, and was a ray shield. Nearly all the architecture was the same color as the rest of the planet. Dusty and tan.

There was a series of landing platforms, which sat atop tall rocky spires. These were located just outside the city, or at least the visitor platforms were. Anakin assumed that there were more landing bays somewhere inside the city as well, but he did not see where they were. So, he landed his small spacecraft on one of these towers. Shutting down the engines, he climbed out of the cockpit and jumped onto the rock with a soft thud. A native approached him, and after a minute or so of conversation he was instructed to fly down to one of the hangers. These looked much like large holes drilled through the rock pillars, but they served as a sort of parking garage. Anakin was amazed that these towers stayed standing, since they were so narrow that only one hanger could fit on a level. As instructed, he parked his ship, then climbed onto a transport. It traveled to the rest of the hangers, picking up any other passengers, before descending and traveling to the gate. As the transport headed for the gate, Anakin took a look at the other two passengers that had climbed on. There was a rather gruff looking man, and a young Twi'Lek boy who was obviously a slave. The boy had sad blue eyes, contrasting the green color of his skin. He wore a cloak, though an electric collar was partially visible. The kid couldn't have been more than 15 years old.

"He's for sale you know."

Anakin looked up, as the man now spoke to him. "Excuse me?"

The man nodded at the Twi'Lek. "He's for sale. I'm sellin' him at the auction tomorrow afternoon. He was my late uncle's slave, and I haven't much use for him. I saw the way you were lookin' at him, and I thought I'd tell you that you can buy him if you want."

Anakin stared at the man for a moment, then looked back at the boy. Obi-Wan hadn't been kidding when he said this was the slave trade capital. He'd barely landed on the planet and already someone had offered to sell him a slave. It was sickening, but the Jedi in disguise forced a smile. "Perhaps I will take a look. Of course, I want to get a look at the other slaves for auction before I make my decision." _I can't believe those words came out of my mouth... I guess I have to get used to saying stuff like that. I'm posing as a slave trader, after all._ He thought to himself.

The man nodded in understanding. "Yep, there's sure to be many fine specimen tomorrow."

Luckily, the transport landed, and the man and the slave got off before Anakin had a chance to reply. He too stepped off, walking up towards the gate. It was easy enough to get through, he was only asked a couple of simple questions. The ray shield gate was lifted, just long enough for Anakin to walk through. He found himself walking down a busy street, full of people and carts and slaves everywhere. There were all sorts of people, and he nearly got lost amongst the crowd. They all seemed to be doing something, and he could only assume that many of them were preparing for tomorrow's auction. From what little he knew about the planet, auctions were held every month.

He wandered the streets for a while, getting a feel for the place. He wanted to blend in as best as possible, and he could only do that if he understood what exactly he was trying to blend in with. Before he knew it, the planet's sun was beginning to lower towards the horizon, and Anakin decided he had better go to the palace. So, he set off towards the large building looming not too far off in the distance.

* * *

><p>Riksha sat on the roof of the center tower of the Queen's palace, meditating.<p>

It was the one place she could go where no one could see her; the palace towered over the rest of the city, so no one could possibly see her from the ground. From above, nobody would care to look. And the Queen? She thought that Riksha was in her small bedroom all this time. But no, rather Riksha spent nearly all her free time up here on the roof. It was round in shape, and it much resembled a medieval tower. There was a four foot high wall that encircled the top of the tower, creating a sort of roof-top patio that only Riksha had access to. There were no stairs up to the roof, the only way up being a force-jump. It was the perfect place for her to meditate, without the worry of being caught.

She was deep into the Force when she noticed a slight disturbance. Something new had come to this planet, though not quite unfamiliar. Riksha opened her eyes, coming out of her meditation, and upon looking up she spotted the faint outline of a ship. She would have liked to stay and get a better look as it descended, but at that moment she sensed that the Queen was nearing Riksha's room. Quickly, Riksha leapt off the roof, falling some four stories before landing expertly on the balcony that was attached to her room. She busied herself organizing things in her quarters, though everything was already organized. This way, when the Queen entered and told Riksha to go get dinner started Riksha was in her room right where the Queen thought she had been all along.

The young woman moved quickly, heading down to the kitchen and joining the other slaves who had been assigned the duty of preparing the night's meal. As usual, Riksha chose the most challenging dish for herself to prepare. She enjoyed the mental exercise it provided, plus it gave the other slaves a bit of a break. They did not share her enthusiasm for creating complex dishes, and they even seemed to dislike the fancy food. But having once been a Jedi, she was accustomed to strenuous mental activity, and as a slave she received very little actually challenging mental stimulation. Cooking was like a training session in disguise, testing her focus and memory.

Most of the food had already been prepped, so once Riksha arrived the rest of the cooking took only an hour. Steaming dishes were sitting on a heated counter, so that they would stay hot until it was time to eat. The Queen was having guests over, and so there was a lot of food. Judging by the quantity that she and the other slaves had cooked, Riksha estimated that somewhere between 6-8 guests were expected.

She hung her apron on a hook, then went back upstairs to get changed. The Queen liked the slaves to look their best during such dinners, and so each of the slaves had a collection of fancy outfits. The higher ranking slaves had the 'nicer' outfits, while the lower ranking ones had very simple attire. Riksha was one of the higher ranking slaves, and so she was expected to wear something fancy. She already knew which outfit the Queen expected her to wear; after two years, she had learned to note the subtle signs that indicated which outfit the Queen wanted.

Riksha pulled out a white top and tan skirt. The top piece had long sleeves that were made of an almost mesh-like see-through material, and had green embroidery. There was also embroidery along the bottom hem of the top, which fell at a slant from above her left hip down to her right one. Along the hem were short strings of emeralds. The skirt was fairly simple, with emerald colored embroidery along the bottom hem (which fell at her ankles.) The outfit showed the wealth of the Queen, yet also showed that Riksha was a slave.

After braiding her hair into a French braid and putting the emerald hair decorations in, Riksha went down the hall a few doors. She knocked gently on one door, and a young Togruta slave girl of about 8 standard years opened it. Her eyes lit up when she saw Riksha standing there, and she pulled the door open more.

"Riksha! Can you help me with my outfit?"

Riksha laughed softly. "Yes, Tarani, I figured you might need some help."

As it turned out, Tarani didn't really need much help, but she was having trouble with the headpiece. Strings of simple crystals and beads were supposed to hang from her head-tails, which the young girl had trouble fastening. It took only a few moments for Riksha to fix them, and Tarani responded with a hug.

"Alright, now head on down with the others," Riksha said when the Togruta let go.

"What about you?" Tarani asked inquisitively.

"I'm supposed to greet the guests and bring them to the dining room," Riksha replied.

Tarani nodded, and the two exited the room. They went down the back staircase together, which was the servant stsircase. Tarani joined the other servants, while Riksha went towards the front door where the Queen was waiting.

"Good, Riley, you are right on time," The Queen stated. She never called her slaves by their true names, instead giving them new but similar names.

Riksha bowed her head in response. "As you wished, my Queen."

Nodding in approval at Riksha's behavior, the Queen left Riksha at the door and went to the dining room.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Anakin had made his way through the streets of the city and was now very near the palace. He paused a moment, examining it and forming a plan. A pair of guards stood outside the palace, dressed in odd armor and each holding an electrostaff. These staffs were not on, but they could be turned on at any moment by their possessors.<p>

Anakin needed to get into the palace, and to gain the Queen's trust. Usually, he would just wing it and come up with something on the spot. But he felt that this time, he should probably do some actual planning.

He remembered hearing some people talking while he was walking through the city about a dinner party the Queen was having. Perhaps he could get himself invited to that dinner party... It was worth a try. Smoothing his cloak, Anakin strode confidently up to the palace guards. They turned their attention to him, crossing their electrostaffs in front of the door.

"Halt!" Bellowed the guard on the left. "Who are you?'

Anakin plastered a fake smile on his face, hoping it looked confident and that he himself looked like someone important. "I am Arwyn Ghinkt," Anakin replied. He had come up with this name during the flight here, knowing he would not be able to use his real name.

The guards looked at him suspiciously. "Your name is not on the list of guests. Do you have an appointment with Her Majesty?"

Anakin simply continued smiling at the guards. "An appointment? I'm sure that you can make an exception for me. I have some information for the Queen."

The guard was not amused. "No exceptions, the Queen is very busy-" He was cut off by a voice, coming through his comlink. "Err, yes your Majesty?"

"Let the man in. I'm curious as to what exactly he has to say." The Queen's voice ordered, coming through the comlink.

The guard appeared to be a bit annoyed, but he complied. Both of the guards stepped to the side, and the tall door opened. Anakin stepped inside, where he was greeted by a young woman.

"Welcome to the Queen's palace," she said. "The Queen is right this way."

Anakin noticed that she didn't meet his eyes when she spoke to him, and realized that this must be one of the Queen's many slaves. He followed her through the foyer, up a flight of lavish stairs, and into the dining room, where a tall alien woman stood at the head of the table. No doubt this was the Queen, anyone could tell just by looking at her expensive attire and by the air of authority that radiated from her.

"Go back and wait for the other guests Riley. Bring them here when they arrive," The Queen told the slave.

Riksha bowed, before turning and walking quickly back to the door. Anakin watched her leave for a minute. Something was odd about her...

"So, Arwyn Ghinkt is it?" The Queen asked, interrupting Anakin's thoughts.

Anakin turned his head back around, so that he was looking at the Queen. "Yes, your Majesty," he replied, bowing slightly. He could sense that the Queen was pleased by this. _So, she is one of those rulers who likes a lot of attention_, he guessed. The rumors he heard had stated as much, and Anakin could see that they were correct.

"You told my guards that you have information I may be interested in. What so you have to tell me?" The Queen asked, getting down to business.

Anakin straightened up. "Yes, I do. I am sure you will be quite happy to know that the planet Suyolx has recently joined the Separatists, in hopes of opening trade with your planet."

This did indeed make the Queen happy. "Thank you for informing me, I will have to have a cup of tea with the Suyolxi Queen to discuss a trade agreement. Tell me, how did you know of this development?"

"I have my ways of learning what is going on in the galaxy," Anakin replied. "Especially when it has to do with the sort of business I do." He knew this information because the Republic had marked down Suyolx as going from neutral to Separatist. But the Queen did not need to know this.

The Queen simply nodded. "I see. Well, Arwyn Ghinkt, as I am sure you are aware I have invited some if the most well-known slavers on the planet to join me for dinner. Perhaps you would like to join us as well? I am sorry to say I do not recognize your name, but I can tell you are of high status."

This was exactly the sort of invitation Anakin had been hoping for. "It would be my pleasure."

"Good. The others should be here shortly."

These words had barely escaped her mouth when Riksha entered, 6 guests following her. They all gave respectful nods to the Queen, before sitting down around the table. Anakin copied, sitting down in the third chair on the left side of the table. Riksha went to stand beside the Queen, looking down at nothing in particular. The Queen clapped her hands together, standing at the head of the table. She gave a short welcoming speech, before sitting down.

"Let the dinner begin."


	4. Dinner With The Queen

**Chapter 3**

The Queen had barely spoken before about a dozen servants entered the dining room, each carrying plates of extravagant food. These dishes were set down on the table gently, before the servants disappeared. Riksha stood beside the Queen the entire time, as she had earlier been instructed.

"So, rumor has it that you have a very... _Unique_ servant," one of the guests said to the Queen.

"Indeed I do, Liam," the Queen responded, a proud and perhaps arrogant smile crossing her face.

Riksha knew that both the guest and Queen were referring to her, and so she was not at all surprised by what was requested.

"Riley, pour the wine," the Queen instructed.

Riksha looked to the bottle of wine that sat elegantly towards the center of the table. She drew a breath, then lifted her hand. The wine bottle rose off the table, and floated towards the first guest. It tilted, filling exactly 7/8 of the glass with wine. Then the bottle lifted again, moving to the next glass and the next, all the while the guests murmured in awe. At the third guest (Anakin) Riksha hesitated momentarily. She could sense that he was... Different than the other traders that had come to dinner. Recovering quickly from this moment of thought (and disregarding it as nothing, deciding she was imagining things or a bit out of practice), Riksha filled his glass and moved on to the next, hoping that she had not hesitated long enough for anyone to notice. Soon, all the glasses were full, and the bottle went back to its original place. The Queen basked joyously in the awe and envy of her guests, absorbing their praises as they talked about what a special servant the Queen had.

"You are dismissed, Riley. Be back down here in exactly two hours."

Giving a quick bow, Riksha left the dining hall and headed up to her room. She planned to meditate, knowing that for two hours she would have no one to disturb her. A perfect escape.

* * *

><p>Anakin had no such escape.<p>

He had always hated sitting around, listening to lectures or briefings or whatever. Now he sat at the table of the Queen of a slaving planet, and he had no choice but to listen to the conversation happening around him. Unlike at a normal dinner where many conversations are happening at once, it seemed that the Queen was at the center of only a single conversation that everyone seemed to be participating in. Except himself, of course.

When the Queen called upon her slave to pour the wine, Anakin had more or less expected her to walk around the table filling glasses. He certainly had not expected her to fill the glasses without even moving from where she stood. A Force sensitive slave? Where in the galaxy did the Queen manage to get a Force sensitive slave? How was that even possible? A million questions raced through his mind, and a whisper of caution. If the Queen had managed to keep a Force sensitive being as a slave, what else might she be capable of? He made a mental note to be extra careful.

Anakin noticed when the wine bottle stopped for a brief second in front of him, as the person who controlled its movements hesitated momentarily. He tensed, wondering if the servant girl knew he was not who he said he was... But how could she know this? He had made sure to put careful walls around his mind and hide his Force signature. He was on a Separatist controlled planet, after all, he couldn't risk detection. His glass was filled hurriedly and the wine bottle moved on to fill the next, and Anakin decided that he had been worried for nothing.

After the topic of chatter strayed from servants, it seemed to simply change to something else that revolved around the greatness of the Queen. Wealth, power, accomplishments. influence, etc. Anakin mentally scoffed at all these praises, he himself viewing the Queen and everyone at this table as despicable life forms. Finally, the topic of conversation turned to something worth paying attention to: politics.

"Your growing influence among your neighbors has not gone unnoticed by the Republic," commented one of the traders, "They are beginning to... Worry."

"Is that so?" Asked the Queen.

"Indeed. They feel that your power is threatening to them."

"Well of course it is _threatening_. They know that there is absolutely nothing they can do to stop me."

_We'll see about that_, Anakin thought to himself.

"Your Majesty, are you the least bit concerned that the Republic might stage another attack?" Liam questioned.

The Queen burst out laughing, much to Anakin's surprise. "Concerned? Hardly!"

The guests looked at her, waiting curiously for her to elaborate.

"Liam, you of all people should know how terribly the Republic has failed in their past attempts to 'liberate' my planet, and how easily I've won."

"You are practically _famous_ for beating the Republic," one of the guests (who turned out to be named Luis) chimed in.

"What if they send Jedi? Clones are easy to defeat, but what about Jedi?"

Everybody turned to stare incredulously at the guest who has asked this.

"You idiot, every Jedi to set foot on this planet has _died_," Luis stated, his tone indicating how stupid he thought the other trader was.

"Not every. One Jedi got away," pointed out the guest, who did not appreciate being called an idiot.

_Qyu-Lyen_, Anakin thought. The man was famous for being the only Jedi to leave the planet alive.

"That was a special case," the Queen interjected, intent on ending this squabble that had erupted.

Anakin was quite interested in what this supposed "special case" might be, but it seemed the Queen did not plan to tell.

"The Jedi are barely a challenge to defeat," the Queen stated, taking a quick sip of her wine, "Honestly, they are so dumb and predictable. They walk right into the traps set for them, like puny mice."

Suddenly, her wine glass burst, much to everyone's surprise and the Queen's dismay. The glass showered down on the table, the wine splashing onto the expensive dress the Queen wore. She gave a little shriek, before ordering a servant to clean up the mess and excusing herself to presumably change her dress. Anakin looked down at his hand, which he had subconsciously clenched into a fist while the Queen had been bad-mouthing the Jedi.

_Whoops. Guess I did that. I'll have to try to be more aware of my emotions, like Obi-Wan is constantly telling me. _Anakin could not honestly say that he was sorry for breaking the glass and spilling wine. In fact, he was almost glad that he had. _Serves her right. She's a horrible being ruling a horrible planet._ But he knew that something like that was bound to get him in trouble at some point if it happened again.

* * *

><p>Riksha was once again up on the roof, meditating, when she felt a slight tremor in the Force. It wasn't anything major, just the kind of thing that can be felt when somebody nearby uses the Force to do something. Nonetheless, it startled her out of her meditation. Someone within the palace was Force sensitive? How was that even possible?<p>

She dove back into meditation, searching the Force for answers. She could not sense any Force sensitives anywhere, which either meant that they didn't exist or that they had put up a wall to hide themselves from other Force sensitives. Neither of these options made much sense in her opinion. The third option was that she was simply out of practice when it came to sensing things, which Riksha supposed was possible despite the fact that she meditated nearly daily when she was able.

Before she knew it, two hours had passed. Riksha could sense the people down in the dining room moving to the living room type area, which was her cue to head downstairs to entertain the guests. I wonder what sort of Force tricks the Queen will request tonight. Riksha leapt down from the roof, landing nearly silently on her personal balcony, before heading swiftly through the hall and down the stairs.

* * *

><p>The Queen had returned to the dining hall more quickly than Anakin had expected, in an entirely new outfit. The guests started up a new conversation, which he chose to completely ignore. Instead, he casually explored the Force to see if he could find anything that might help with his mission. He wasn't sure really what he was looking for, rather he was like a person who wanders into a shop without having anything specific they are looking to buy. Just exploring for no particular reason except to have something to do.<p>

A slight something caught his attention, though Anakin did not know exactly what it was. Cautiously, he mentally moved towards it, only for it to suddenly and abruptly disappear. How odd. As much as he disliked meditating, perhaps it would be wise to meditate on this later and try to find whatever that thing was.

After a few more minutes the Queen stood up, ordered several slaves to clear the table, and lead her guests to the living room. Once everyone was seated on one of the many fancy couches and chairs, she tuned expectantly towards the door. Right on cue, Riksha entered the room.

"Tonight, you all have the special treat of watching Riley here perform entertaining tricks using what her kind call the Force," the Queen announced, taking a seat in one of the chairs to watch.

This definitely peeked Anakin's interest. Perhaps if he watched this person use the Force more, he could figure out where she came from and how the Queen managed to get her hands on a Force sensitive slave.

Riksha performed a number of tricks, all of them boring in her opinion but seemingly fascinating to the audience. She stacked cards into a house, juggled plates, levitated things, etc. _I feel like a circus act_ she thought to herself. _What a waste of my talent. _Once the Queen determined she was finished, Riksha was once again sent away. This time though, she was permitted to retire for the night.

Anakin was not at all impressed by the simple routine, contrary to the other guests who punctuated the performance with oohs and awws. A Jedi youngling could do such a thing with his eyes closed and an arm tied behind his back. Anakin felt bad for this Force-user, whom he could tell was bored with the show she had to put on.

Nearly an hour later, the guests began to leave one by one, until Anakin was the only one left. To be honest, he had not thought through his plan very well, and he realized that he didn't have anywhere to go.

"So, Arwyn Ghinkt, where did you say you were from?" The Queen asked him out of the blue, now that the other guests had left.

"Tatooine," Anakin answered. He couldn't very well say Coruscant, so he might as well tell where he lived as a child. Lucky for this particular conversation, people on Tatooine owned slaves, so this was the perfect place for a slaver to be from. "Though I travel around a lot."

"Ah, Tatooine. My brother used to live there. What brings you to my planet?"

What should he say? Rummaging through his mind for a good answer, Anakin remembered the man with the Twi'Lek slave mentioning some sort of slave auction. "You know, the same thing as everyone else. The slave auction tomorrow. That, and I thought you would be interested in knowing Suyolx wants to open trade with you."

"Oh yes, the auction," the Queen said brightly. "Many foreign traders come to the auctions, they are the busiest times of the month for my planet. They happen once a every two months, and last about a week. Of course, I'm sure you knew that."

"Indeed, I did. Your auctions are famous," Anakin replied. He actually had not known this vital piece of info, and was glad to have been told about it. It seemed the Queen would just give him information with barely any prompting... This could prove beneficial.

"Do you have any sort of slave in mind you are looking to purchase?"

"Not particularly, though I have always been interested in finding a Force sensitive slave," Anakin responded. Hopefully, he might find out where the Queen had bought hers.

The Queen chuckled, surprising Anakin yet again. "You won't find one of those here."

"Certainly you bought your fine servant at the auction at some point?"

"Riley? Ha, I didn't _buy_ her," the Queen chuckled again at the notion of buying her most prized slave.

That was rather alarming in Anakin's mind. Didn't buy her? How else did the Queen manage to get a Force sensitive slave? Unless Riley was a gift, or the Queen personally enslaved her...

Seemingly realizing she had said too much, the Queen changed the subject. "Where are you staying this week?"

"I actually haven't found a place yet."

"Oh," said the Queen. "Well, I have a few extra rooms. You are welcome to stay here for the week. A sort of payment for brining me the news of Suyolx."

"I would appreciate that greatly," Anakin couldn't believe his outstanding luck.

"I will call one of my servants to escort you to the guest suite."

In a moment, a young Twi'Lek girl of about 12 years appeared, and lead Anakin up several levels and through a hallway that joined two towers. The middle tower was the one that housed the dining and living room, as well as the Queen's room and dozens of other rooms. Apparently, the second tallest tower on the left was the one with the guest suites.

Upon reaching the guest suite, Anakin thanked the Twi'Lek girl. She froze, apparently not used to receiving thanks, before leaving. Shaking his head sadly, Anakin entered his room. It was his turn to freeze, more in awe than shock. The room was HUGE. It had large windows, a long couch, a high ceiling, fancy tile flooring, tall glass doors which opened onto a wide balcony, an elegant dresser, and a giant bed. He walked around the room, staring at everything. It was all so fancy, quite different from what he was used to at the Jedi Temple. His room there was small, and littered with droid parts and other such things that he would build with.

After marveling at the room for a good five minutes, Anakin finally retired to bed. It had been a rather long day for him, and he was tired. Tomorrow would no doubt be just as if not more eventful. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, a brief thought ran through his mind. What did the Queen mean when she had said "what _her kind_ call the Force?" What did the Queen mean by "her kind?"


	5. A Strange Dream

**Chapter 4**

Anakin bolted upright in his bed, breathing heavily. Glancing at the clock that rested upon a table beside the bed, he realized that it was very early morning. In fact, the planet's moons were still high in the sky. This was no time for anyone to be awake, but wide awake described exactly what Anakin now was.

Running his single flesh-hand through his hair, Anakin contemplated what had woken him. He had experienced a nightmare, and a peculiar one at that. The images in the dream had been mostly blurry and unclear, and it wasn't the images that had caused this dream to be classified as a nightmare. It was the intense feelings, feelings that were not unfamiliar to the young Knight but seemed out of place. It almost felt as if those emotions weren't his own, but someone else's.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep until he at least tried to puzzle this out, Anakin climbed out of bed. He grabbed a glass of water, then walked out onto the balcony. The city below was dark and quiet, while two moons shone dimly up in the sky. Anakin crossed his arms on the railing, leaning forward a bit while he considered the odd dream. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what those blurry shapes represented, but he distinctly remembered the feelings that went along with the images.

First, there was confidence and determination. Anakin related this to the way he felt on missions. That bold feeling you get when you are determined to win, and you are certain that you can. When you have a perfect (and often crazy if you were Anakin) plan, and despite all the things that could go wrong, you are pretty sure it will work. If it doesn't... Well, it's best not to think about that sometimes.

Second, there had been suspicion, a bit of wariness. Then a sudden burst of shock, horror even. As he thought about this scene, Anakin noticed there had been an underlying sinking feeling of... Failure. He shivered a bit, though it was quite warm outside. This was not what one would consider a chilly planet, with warm nights and even warmer days. But that feeling of failure... It had been like a ball of lead, pulling him down. He hated failing, and it had felt so heavy in the nightmare even though it wasn't the most prominent feeling in that part of the dream.

Then, a quick streak of something Anakin couldn't identify, and then nothing. At this point, the dream had turned to utter blackness. He had floated in this nothingness for what felt like an eternity, before the nothing eventually faded into something.

When the scene changed, it had become clearer. The shapes were not as blurred, like the way a fresher memory is clearer than an old. There was a lot of white, and a lot of brightness. He was in a room of sorts, that much he was able to determine from the somewhat blurry scene. Accompanying the images were muddled feelings of confusion and disorientation, like waking up from a long sleep. Perhaps that's what was happening in the dream, someone waking up. Then, a whole mix of feelings, one after another and sometimes at the same time. Confusion, irritation, pain, sadness, suspicion, and many others. One of these feelings really stood out to Anakin: immense loyalty. Something had sparked feelings of loyalty, of caring, maybe a bit of attachment.

That bit of attachment was kind of... Worrisome? No, that wasn't quite the right word. Attachments were something Jedi were forbidden to form. Anakin was of course guilty of forming attachments, especially to his mother for example. He never felt fully guilty about this, believing that it was wrong of the Council to forbid attachment. Jedi were supposed to care, weren't they? Didn't attachment just encourage a person to care for someone more? But at the same time, he could see the logical side of not forming attachment. Attachment could (and had in the past in Anakin's case) lead to fear. Which lead to anger, which lead to hate. Which could possibly lead to the Dark Side.

Pushing aside his personal conflicting feelings about attachment, Anakin tried once again to focus on the dream and figure out the feelings in the dream._ It didn't feel like the sort of attachment I formed to my mother_ Anakin thought to himself. _More like... Hmm. It felt more like my bond with Obi-Wan._

So what did it all mean? Why had he experienced this strange nightmare? The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. He felt certain that it was not a vision, not a dream that predicted the future. Nor did it seem like a casual dream, a collection of thoughts. It was almost like a historical dream... Like it was conveying something that happened in the past. Yes, Anakin was almost sure that it was a dream that showed the past. But of what? Who's past was it showing? It couldn't be his own, because everything in the nightmare felt foreign. He had no memories even remotely similar to what took place in the dream.

Turning, he left the balcony and walked back into his room. He placed the empty water glass on a table, sat down on the side of the bed, and let out a sigh of frustration. Anakin was confused by the dream, and irritated by the fact that he didn't have the slightest idea what it meant. Maybe it meant nothing. Someone else would probably have brushed the nightmare aside as merely a random nightmare, but Anakin had a history with strange nightmares and so he was not so quick to ignore it. There had to be some significance to it. He could practically sense that there was something important about it.

Glancing over at the clock and realizing that he had been trying to puzzle this out for over an hour, he finally got back into bed and resolved to try and sleep. There would always be time for thinking tomorrow.

For the rest of the night, Anakin didn't have any more strange dreams. In fact, he had no dreams at all.


	6. Morning

**Chapter 5**

"Riksha?"

Riksha looked down at the young girl walking beside her. The Togruta had tilted her head back, curiously watching the face of the older woman. Her eyes were searching Riksha's face, examining her expression.

"Yes, Tarani?" Riksha asked. She turned her head away from Tarani, diverting her gaze to look forward. She didn't stop walking, as there was really no need to stop in order to talk. They were heading towards the stairwell, as it was early morning and time for breakfast to be prepared. She hadn't realized it before, but now Riksha had the feeling that the younger girl had been watching her the entire time. "What is it?"

"What are you thinking about?"

This question came as a surprise to Riksha. "What do you mean?"

The Togruta looked away from her for a moment, deciding how to answer. She looked down the hallway, at the long carpet that decorated the floor. It was pretty enough, not as pretty as some of the other carpets that graced the halls, but pretty nonetheless. "You just have that look on your face... The look you get when you're thinking real hard about something."

Riksha hadn't realized that there was a specific look. Well, she knew that people often had a look on their faces when they were thinking, but she just didn't realize that it was present in her own expressions. She usually tried to keep any thought-revealing expression off of her face, but apparently Tarani had still noticed. "I do?"

"Yep. Whatcha thinking about?"

"Just... Things."

"Did you have that dream again?"

Riksha stopped walking. How was it that this little girl so smart? She looked down at the 8 year-old standing beside her. Tarani's bright blue eyes looked back up at her, shining with genuine curiosity. The girl had noticed the thoughtful look on Riksha's face, and had wondered what had caused her to fall into such deep thought. After thinking about it herself, she had drawn the only logical conclusion she could after comparing this "look" to the ones she had noticed in the past. She had made an educated guess, and now waited patiently for an answer, to find out if her guess had been correct. After a moment of considering what to say, Riksha confirmed Tarani's speculation.

"Yes. I did."

"Wow, it's been a while since you had that dream last."

"I suppose it has."

About a month had passed since Riksha had last experienced the particular dream of which the two were now speaking. It was a nightmare really, and a reoccurring one at that. It was not very clear, the images no more than blurry shapes and colors. It was the feelings that were distinct, as clear as what she could feel right now. And these were what classified it as a nightmare. That, and the fact that the dream was a memory, and thinking about the dream stirred negative feelings within her. She knew that the memory was an unpleasant one, though even the memory was not clear in her mind. In fact, the memory was no clearer than the dream itself. It was muddled and hard to reach, locked away by the mild amnesia that Riksha suffered from. More frustrating than anything else, it prevented her from remembering what exactly had gone wrong on that mission two years ago. She clearly remembered breaking into the Separatist base and placing the bombs. She clearly remembered waking up in a hospital several days later. What happened in between was either muddled or completely out of reach.

These nightmares had started after Riksha had been a slave of the Queen for about a year. She had meditated long and hard for that year on the topic of that fateful mission, trying to unlock the hidden portion of her mind. She had made a little bit of progress, and then the nightmares began happening. They gave her a little more insight as to what had happened, but not much. They were nightly occurrences for a while, the same dream every night for a number of months. Then, slowly, they became less frequent.

Riksha examined the child, who was now standing in front of her. She had never told Tarani exactly what her nightmares were about. She had first mentioned them to the young girl when she had been having nightmares, and knowing Riksha had them sometimes too had been comforting. It is strange, how people take comfort in knowing others share similar pain. How Riksha dealt with nightmares was also a major part of what had helped calm the Togruta.

_"How come you aren't afraid of nightmares?" Tarani asked, looking at Riksha with an amazed gaze. Her eyes were still filled with fear, from the dream out of which she had just awoken. The edge of the blanket that covered the bed was clenched in her fists, as though holding onto the blanket would prevent some monster from appearing._

_Riksha sat down on the side of the girl's bed, smiling in a gentle and comforting way. "Because I remember that they are just dreams. Dreams cannot hurt you, Tarani. They are only things that your mind comes up with. Sometimes, once in a very long while, a dream is the Force talking to you. This can't hurt you either."_

_Tarani found the young woman's voice and insight soothing. "So by being scared of nightmares, I am being scared of my mind or the Force talking?"_

_"That's one way to look at it," Riksha replied._

_Tarani fell silent, staring down at the blanket, thinking this over. Riksha could sense the fear slowly leaving, which was good._

_"Even though I know it's just my mind, nightmares can still be scary," Tarani commented, before lifting her head to once again stare inquisitively at the older girl. "How else do you keep from being afraid?"_

_"Well, I think about the nightmares afterwards. I think about what it is that makes them seem scary," Riksha gave a small chuckle. "Sometimes, I realize they aren't even scary at all!"_

_Tarani giggled as well, scooting further under the covers and drawing a blanket up to her chin. She yawned, her eyelids beginning to droop a bit. She had been successfully consoled, and was now finished with the conversation. Riksha stood up, tucking the blanket gently around the girl's small figure. Seeing that Tarani was ready to go back to sleep, she smiled to herself, glad that she had helped her overcome her fear._

_"Goodnight, Riksha," Tarani called drowsily, as Riksha turned to leave._

_"Goodnight, Tarani."_

Now, Tarani stood looking up at the woman she considered a friend. She didn't pry for information about the dream, replying with a simple casual statement. "I wonder why it came back."

Excellent question. Why did this nightmare come back? Riksha supposed it had never really been triggered by anything before, but she almost felt as if there _should_ be a reason to explain why it had come back. An entire month with no blurry-memory-nightmare, then poof! It happened again. Such things ought to have a proper reason behind them. Right?

"I don't know." Realizing that they had been standing in the hallway for a good couple of minutes, Riksha added "you should probably get going. I don't think the Queen will be too pleased if her guest is late to breakfast."

Tarani nodded, turning and hurrying down the hall and to the stairs. Riksha herself moved quickly down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, knowing full well that there would be unpleasant consequences for everyone if the food was not on the table by exactly 7:00.

* * *

><p>Anakin heard a faint, almost hesitant knocking on his door. Striding over quickly, he grasped the handle with his gloved mechanical hand and pulled it open. He had half expected to find someone around his height, but instead he found himself looking down at a young Togruta.<p>

"Sorry to bother you, Sir," she began. She didn't meet his eyes, as that was not proper behavior for a slave. Instead, she just looked at his boots. They looked like they didn't belong with his outfit, in her opinion. Well, she supposed they sort of matched, but the looked more like work boots than anything else. While the rest of his attire was slightly on the fancy side (as most traders wore clothing to express their status) his boots looked like they had been through a lot. "Breakfast will be ready in exactly 20 minutes."

"Alright, I'll be there," Anakin replied. "Thank you for telling me."

The Togruta appeared just as surprised as the Twi'Lek had last night at receiving thanks. She bowed quickly, before hurrying off to do something else. Anakin watched her go, her head-tails bouncing against her shoulders as she headed for the stairs. He was making a point of being kind to the Queen's slaves, since he knew that he was likely the only one to ever do so. It was sad, how people were treated like they were worthless and their single purpose was to serve. They were practically treated like expendable B1 droids.

Anakin took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He could feel the anger bubbling inside of him, and that was not something that would help anyone. He already had broken something, and if he let himself get angry he would likely do something even more rash and counter productive. He had known what he was getting into when he accepted this mission from Obi-Wan, now he needed to see it through. That meant that, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't afford to get into "aggressive negotiations." It also meant he needed to try and keep his own past and personal feelings from interfering with the mission. _If I succeed, then all these slaves will be freed_. He tried to remind himself of this, to assure himself that his patience and lack of taking action would pay off. He could be more helpful to the slaves through just sticking to the mission plan.

So, instead of blowing his cover and bringing out his lightsaber, Anakin calmly made his way down to the dining room. Which turned out to be empty. Glancing at the clock sitting on the wall to be sure he was on time, he confirmed that it was exactly 7:00. So where was the Queen? Shrugging, the Jedi in disguise strode over to the table and sat down in one of the chairs. He drummed on the table with his fingers, eyes wandering aimlessly over the room, waiting for someone to show up. Eventually, at 7:02, the slave that Anakin remembered had been called Riley walked through. She was not dressed in the same fancy attire as yesterday, rather today she wore a much simpler raw umber colored tank top and skirt. These of course had fancy gold embroidery along the edges, but overall the outfit was very different from that of yesterday. Upon seeing Anakin, she paused midstep. A look of mild confusion ran across her face as she saw him sitting alone at the long table, before realization dawned on her.

"The breakfast table is located in a different room," she said in an almost hesitant voice, as though she were unsure wether she should be speaking to him.

Anakin felt slightly embarrassed about this situation, and a somewhat awkward silence followed the slave's comment. He had gone to the wrong room and sat there like an idiot for a full two minutes. "Would you mind showing me?" He asked her at last, hoping it wouldn't be too much trouble. After all, he didn't know what she was supposed to be doing.

She nodded, and Anakin stood up from the table. After pushing the chair in, he walked over to where she stood. She turned and headed back towards the door through which she had come only a moment before. The pair made their way down a long hallway, with many doors and halls branching off of it. Anakin took it all in, making a mental map of the paths they took so that he could find his way to the breakfast room in the future without assistance. Knowing the layout of the palace would also come in handy if the Republic ever wanted to do any invading...

It wasn't long before they entered a large room with white tile flooring, which Anakin assumed to be the dining area for breakfast. The room had a large window covering one wall, so that a person could watch the sunrise or just look out the window while eating the first meal of the day. Very near the window was a fairly small round table, made of a very light colored wood and adorned with intricate carvings along the edge and on the legs. Two chairs currently sat across from each other at the table, though there was some space left for two or so more. In one of these chairs sat the Queen, and on the table were several platters of breakfast foods. The Queen heard Anakin and Riksha enter, and turned her head to look at them.

"Riley?" She began, speaking as though Anakin weren't standing there. "What are you doing back so soon? I told you to go clean the kitchen." Then, seemingly noticing Anakin for the first time, she smiled. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering what was keeping you. We like to keep a strict schedule, you know. Why, you're nearly five minutes late! I don't blame you, of course, as you wouldn't have known. Did Taylor not tell you that breakfast was exactly at 7?"

Anakin glanced at the slave beside him, who didn't even argue that the reason she had come back was because she was bringing him to breakfast. She just stood there, looking at the floor. Before Anakin could reply to the Queen, she had begun speaking again.

"Come, sit down. The food will get cold," she said, gesturing to the chair across from her.

Anakin sat down, and once again opened his mouth to explain that he simply had gone to the wrong room and that Taylor (he assumed this was the name of the Togruta child) did tell him that breakfast was at seven. Once again, he didn't get a chance to say anything when the Queen yelled for the girl.

"Taylor! Come here!"

The girl from earlier scurried into the room, nearly crashing into Riksha who was still standing halfway between the table and the door. Anakin couldn't help noticing this. _I wonder why she hasn't left. The Queen didn't seem happy that she came back in the first place..._

Tarani skidded to a stop beside the table, nearly loosing her balance due to the fact she had been moving so quickly. "Yes, Master?"

The Queen gave the girl an accusatory look. "Taylor, did you tell Arwyn here that breakfast was exactly at 7:00?"

"Yes."

"Did you explain to him that we keep a very tight schedule?"

Anakin saw a bit of worry begin to creep into the girl's expression. He noticed that she fiddled nervously with the hem of her shirt, twisting it and rolling it between her fingers.

"No."

"Did you even tell him where the breakfast parlor was?"

Tarani bit her lip. "No."

"Then how did you expect him to get here?" The Queen's tone was growing harsher with every question she asked, obviously not pleased with the Togruta. "Don't answer, that's rhetorical. I'll deal with your punishment later."

Anakin took a quiet breath to keep his emotions in check. The poor child was on the verge of tears from the scolding, and knowing that she would be getting even more of a punishment later. Suddenly, he felt a surge of protectiveness and irritation. Well, rather he sensed this surge. He glanced up at the Queen. It was obviously not from her... Slowly, Anakin turned his head, and saw that the other slave was still standing there. She was pointedly glaring at the Queen, and tapping her fingers restlessly against the side of her leg. The irritation and protectiveness was definitely radiating from her. Truthfully, Anakin was a bit shocked by how harshly she was glaring at the Queen. Just a few minutes earlier, she had seemed as passive and uncertain as any other well-trained slave. Now, she appeared to have the ferocity of an unbroken being.

The Togruta turned and moved away from the table, having been sent away by the Queen. She retreated almost like a dog who has just been yelled at and scolded for chewing on furniture. She appeared to shrink a bit, no doubt upset and nervous about whatever punishment was to come upon her later. Anakin felt sorry for the girl, and wished there was something he could have done to prevent her getting blamed. He watched as the two slaves left together, the older one murmuring something to the younger.

Turning his attention away from them, Anakin picked up one of the breakfast pastries and began to nibble on it.

"When do you plan on heading down to the market? Of course, the auction isn't until later, but it's always smart to head down early to check out the different options. Some of the traders will sell their slaves to you straight away, not even wait to auction them off," The Queen had decided to strike up a conversation, being the social person she was. Silence was not an option.

"I'm not sure, really. When do you suggest I head down? I want to look for the best deals, of course."

Clasping her hands together, the woman appeared to have just thought of a wonderfully brilliant idea. "I'm sending Riley down to find a new servant for me. Why don't you head down with her? She has an uncanny ability to choose just which slaves will make a perfect fit for my palace, perhaps she can help you pick out one for yourself as well."

Anakin thought this over, and continued to nibble on his pastry as he did so. Perhaps, if he went down to the market with the Queen's slave, he could pry some information out of her. "That sounds like a good idea. When is she heading down?"

"Once she's done cleaning the kitchen, which should should be very soon, knowing her. I'm fairly certain she uses those powers of hers to get it done more quickly than the average slave."

Those powers? Anakin raised an eyebrow at this. The Queen must be referring to the Force. It seemed that the slave used the Force to do a lot of things... Perhaps he would question her about more than just the Queen.

* * *

><p><strong>What do you all think of the story so far? I know, there hasn't been a whole lot of action yet, but there will be soon. We can't expect there to be a bunch of action right in the beginning now can we? <strong>

**What do you think of the length of the chapters? Would you prefer longer or shorter ones? I've been trying to keep them between 2-4 thousand words each.**


	7. The Market

**Chapter 6**

Less than an hour later, Anakin was walking through the streets of the capital city with the Queen's servant beside him. She had put on a brown hooded cloak, and it seemed to be doing its job of keeping her from being noticed. People barely glanced at her, as they were too busy rushing about and examining the slaves for sale. Some had come without slaves, others had brought a slave or two with them to look at the ones for sale.

There were certainly numerous options. Many slaves were kept in pits in the ground, while others were kept on chains and leashes. A few were even in cages. Like animals Anakin noted. He glanced over at the slave beside him, wondering how she dealt with seeing all this, being a slave herself and all. Her face seemed devoid of any expression or emotion, as she looked around. How does she do that? Doesn't it make her unhappy? He himself, not for the first time since landing on this wretched planet, could feel anger curling inside of him.

He looked to his left, and saw a man raise a lightwhip to beat one of his slaves. Only, when he swung his arm to bring it down, he found that it was no longer in his possession. In fact, it now sat perched on the roof of a nearby building. Anakin stared for a second, then turned to look at Riksha. He noticed her hand move discreetly beneath her cloak, and had no doubt it was she who had moved the lightwhip. A faint smile tugged at the corners of Anakin's mouth. Perhaps part of the reason she wore the cloak was to hide such tricks as the one she had just performed.

Since he was not actually interested in buying a slave, Anakin instead focused on watching the behaviors of the people in the city. It would be beneficial to learn how exactly they acted, walked, talked, etc. That way, he could blend in better, and perhaps the information might help other Jedi blend in if they chose to come and stage an attack that way.

He also paid close attention to the behavior of the Queen's slave. She was strange, that much was for certain. Unlike almost every other person in the market, she did not seem to react to anything happening around them. She did not appear startled when a crate fell over. She didn't appear to be angry when they walked past a slave receiving a beating. She didn't even look over as two slavers got into a heated argument. Nothing. Anakin couldn't sense any emotion coming from her at all, which was odd. Either she truly is unaffected, which can't be true, considering how she moved that lightwhip, or she knows how to shield her feelings from outsiders. In order to put up such shields, she would have to be an advanced force user...

Curiously, Anakin used the Force to try and look at her mind. Nothing to major, he just wanted to see if he could find her emotions. Surely, it would not be a difficult task, to just peek at the mind of a slave...

And so he was shocked when he hit a wall.

Not a physical wall, but a mental wall, put up through the Force. It was not unlike the ones he had built up. The sort of walls a person has to be taught how to put up, either through studying or through someone teaching them. This bit of information further added to his... Curiosity? Suspicion? Surprise? None of those words seemed quite right, but they sort of described his thoughts.

Finally, he decided they had walked in silence long enough. What harm could possibly come from asking a few questions?

"So, your name is Riley?" Anakin asked, instantly feeling dumb. What kind of conversation starter was that? Oh right, his conversations usually started with a lightsaber... Hmm, maybe Obi-Wan was right, he did need to work on speech a bit more.

"Yes."

Well, so much for starting a conversation. One word answers were not exactly conversation material. "What about your last name?" He inquired.

Anakin noticed that she furrowed her brow, looking confused. "The Queen doesn't give us last names."

Now it was his turn to be confused. "The Queen? What does she have to do with your name?"

"The Queen gives us each a new name when we begin service to her."

That was one of the dumbest things Anakin thought he had ever heard in his life. "And that's it? That's your name?"

"Not truly, I suppose, but what does it matter? Who would care to learn the name of a servant anyway?"

Anakin wanted to say "I would" but he refrained. It was too soon to blow his cover, to have anyone suspect him of being anything other than a slave trader. So, he fell silent, watching as she examined one of the slaves that was chained up.

* * *

><p>To say the least, Riksha was surprised when the trader, Arwyn, spoke to her.<p>

She had, more or less, expected him to barely take notice of her. Slavers didn't usually care about slaves at all, unless you were lucky enough to be owned by a "good" one. No person who owned slaves was good from Riksha's point of view, but some were definitely better than others. She had seen many types of traders, and determined that a select few were actually good to their servants. What about the Queen? That woman fell somewhere in-between. The slaves she owned had pretty good housing, living in a palace and all. Their rooms were small, but compared to the terrible conditions other slaves had to live in the rooms might as well be heaven. Food was always given, twice a day. The clothing was comfortable, even if it did mark the slaves as, well, slaves. The Queen was fairly harsh in dealing out punishments, but she was much better than a lot of other people on this planet. Her punishments were for the most part just extra work or spending a night in the cellar. Of course, for more severe incidents, harsher punishments were dealt out.

Actually, the Queen was usually not the one to carry out the harsher punishments. Her guards dealt with that most of the time, and depending on which guard you got, you could get away with minimal punishment. A strike or two with a lightwhip if you were lucky. If you were not so lucky, then, well, good luck.

Riksha had yet to figure out what kind of trader this man beside her was. He had, according to Tarani and Puanani (the Twi'Lek girl), been kind to them. He had even _thanked_ them for carrying out the Queen's orders. That was not something that you see everyday, at least not on this planet. Now, he inquired about her name.

Her first instinct was to say "no, that is not my name" but it _was_ her name, at least as a slave. It was the name she had been assigned by the Queen. Her last name? The Queen didn't give servants last names, as that would be ridiculous. She cared enough to name them, but they did not, according to the Queen, deserve last names. The names she assigned them were more so that she could easily shout out an order and have the correct person fulfill it.

After her last comment, Arwyn stopped asking questions momentarily. Riksha turned to look at one of the slaves that was chained by the wrist to a wooden post, an alien boy of a species she did not recognize. He was, she realized, blind. No wonder his owner was trying to sell him, but who would buy a blind slave? It was quite unfortunate for him. Riksha turned away, not wanting to dwell on what might happen to him. Coming down to the market always stirred up negative feelings within her, but she had trained herself to not focus on them. This way, they were less likely to lead to something bad.

What could she do even if she did dwell upon these feelings? Her Jedi side was screaming at her to do something, to free the slaves. The Jedi were protectors, after all. But she could do nothing, having been reduced down to merely a slave herself. The best she could do was bring one of the slaves into the Queen's group. The Queen was one of the best people to work for on the planet, and even though suffering was still involved, it was much better than being the slave of most other people.

It was for these reasons that Riksha never chose the strongest slave. The strong ones could survive the harsh conditions of other owners. Riksha often chose young people below the age of 20. These were the slaves that would be good workers, and being young they deserved to grow up in better conditions than what they would likely get if the Queen did not buy them. They also tended to harbor less hate and anger, which was key. The slaves who had a lot of hate within them were typically rebellious, and that would lead to the suffering of the other slaves. Riksha could not bring a slave into the group who would only cause the rest of them pain.

"So, if the Queen named you, Riley is not technically your real name?"

The trader interrupted her thoughts, asking another question. Why did he care? Perhaps he was one of the 'good' slavers who actually considered the well-being of his servants. "That is correct."

"What is your real name then?" He asked.

Riksha turned her attention away from the slaves and focused it on him. Without being too obvious, for it is improper for a slave to make eye contact, she glanced over at him. She examined his expression, and considered the feelings she could sense from him, to try and figure out his intentions. He seemed like he was just curious, perhaps even bored and looking to make conversation. _How strange. A slaver, who is planning on buying a slave, is bored in a slave market and making conversation with a slave._ She might have been amused, had she not been worrying about how to answer his question.

Was it safe to tell him her name? Her first name perhaps, but not her last. Her name, Riksha Noabbaa, was a name that was associated with a supposedly dead Jedi Knight. For many reasons, she could not go around claiming this as her name.

"Riksha," she finally stated, realizing she had been silent for a while.

"Riksha..." He muttered, as if testing out the word. "What's your last name?"

She hesitated a moment, then decided to try her luck and refuse to answer. "I'd rather not say."

She sensed a bit of surprise from him, that she had chosen not to answer his question. But he didn't push the issue, he just stood waiting while she walked over to a young human boy. The boy was sitting on the ground, chained by the wrist just like the first slave she had paused to look at, except this one also had an electric collar. He had a mop of shaggy red hair, and bright green eyes. Freckles were scattered across his face, though it was somewhat difficult to discern between the freckles and the dirt. He wore an old, dirty tan tunic and torn sand colored pants. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was not exactly treated well, and yet Riksha could not sense any negative feelings from him.

"Hello," she said softly, kneeling in front of him.

The boy lifted his head up, looked from her to Anakin to his current owner and then back to her. "Hi."

"How old are you?" Riksha asked him.

"10."

"And your name?"

"Tatianos."

Riksha smiled, and he gave a smile in return. Yes, he was the one. "Nice to meet you, Tatianos, my name is Riksha."

The boy tilted his head. "That's a funny name."

"Is it?" Riksha asked, amused.

Tatianos nodded, a lock of his red hair falling in front of his face as he did so. He brushed it away, smudging a bit of dirt across his forehead as he did. "Who do you work for?" He inquired.

"Well, the Queen."

"Is she nice?"

"Pardon?"

"Is she nice," the boy repeated. Glancing somewhat warily at the stern looking man nearby, the boy's owner, he lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "My current master is not very kind to us."

"I see," Riksha said, frowning slightly, as she too glanced over at the man. He was currently distracted, talking to another slaver. "The Queen is nice enough, I suppose. Better than many."

"She doesn't seem to make you wear these," Tatianos commented, tapping with his free hand on the electric collar around his neck.

"No, not usually, unless you are unusually uncooperative."

The boy nodded, sighing. "Your master, she sent you to find another slave, right?"

"That is correct."

"Do you think, maybe, you could choose me?" Tatianos asked hopefully.

Riksha looked at the young boy's bright green eyes, full of the hope of gaining a better master. She stood up, clasping her hands in front of her. "I will speak to the Queen. I cannot make any promises, of course."

Tatianos grinned, brushing his hair away again. "Thanks."

Riksha let a smile cross her face, bowing her head briefly to her fellow slave. "Hopefully, I will see you again soon, Tatianos."

"Seeya, Riksha."

Riksha turned away, and began walking back towards the palace.

* * *

><p>Anakin followed after the Queen's servant, contemplating what he had seen and heard in the market. It was a fairly long walk back to the palace, so he had plenty of time to think. There was certainly much to think about, starting with this servant's name. Riksha. The name rang a bell, though he couldn't seem to remember exactly where he had heard the name before. Sometime during his travels? Maybe. Perhaps Obi-Wan had mentioned her name? It was possible.<p>

Then there was the matter of her not wanting to share her last name. Why would someone be secretive about something like that? If he knew her last name, it would probably make it easier for him to figure out who exactly she was. A last name was not exactly some deep dark secret... Or was it? Anakin had the feeling that this slave girl was hiding something.

Her choice in the Queen's new slave was odd, to say the least. She had completely ignored the older and stronger slaves, and the ones who looked as though they were being treated well. She had passed by the slaves that Anakin could sense were angry, and the ones that harbored hate in their hearts. Instead, Riksha had gone to a young boy. A very average boy at that. Wouldn't the Queen want the 'best' slave? He supposed Riksha knew more about the Queen than he did, so maybe this was normal. Maybe the Queen liked average slaves. Or maybe Riksha had purposely chosen the boy for other reasons.

"Why did you bow to that boy?" Anakin asked suddenly. He had noticed her bow her head to the boy before leaving. Why had she done that?

"A sign of respect for an equal," Riksha replied.

So her bowing to the other slave was sort of like how the Jedi all bow to each other. It made a lot of sense, and Anakin was a tad embarrassed that he hadn't figured that out. She hadn't bowed to him the way she bowed to the Queen, it had definitely been a respectful bow as opposed to the bow a slave gives to their master. Being bowed to had certainly made the boy happy, Anakin had sensed that. Happiness at having someone acknowledge you as a person, instead of an animal or machine.

Finally, they reached the palace. Anakin wasn't really sure what to do, but Riksha informed him it was nearly dinner time so if he wanted to wait in the dining room food would be ready shortly. Then, she hurried off to go tell the Queen about the red-haired boy, Tatianos. Anakin did the only logical thing he could think of that might help him get some answers; he followed her. He was curious as to how the conversation about the boy would play out.

Riksha disappeared inside a room, within which Anakin assumed was the Queen. Stopping just outside the door, he leaned against it, trying to hear the conversation going on within the room.

"Riley, I see you're back. I assume you found the right slave for me?"

"Indeed, your Majesty. A young boy, of about ten years."

"That sounds lovely, but I have decided I don't actually need another slave."

"Your Majesty?"

"I figured, I only just got that Togruta child Taylor at the last market, why get another so soon?"

"But your Majesty, he-"

"Riley are you _arguing_ with me?"

A momentary silence followed the question. Then "no, your Majesty."

"Good. We will discuss this no more. Go hurry and make dinner."

Anakin quickly backed away from the door, just as Riksha exited. He could tell she was not the least bit happy with the conversation she had just had with the Queen, and he wondered why she had been so set on getting the Queen to buy that boy. He supposed that the boy would have a better life as the Queen's slave than he currently had, so perhaps Riksha felt that she would be sort of rescuing the boy.

Whatever the reason, the Queen was not buying the boy. That was that. Anakin couldn't help feeling bad for the boy, who had been so hopeful that Riksha's master would buy him. Those green eyes, so full of hope and happiness after Riksha spoke to him. He had been treated so poorly, yet he didn't seem to dwell on the past, only on what might be his future. It was admirable, really. And something Anakin hadn't quite mastered himself. He had never really been able to let go of his past...

Shaking his head to clear away the thoughts which tried to crawl in, Anakin sat down at the dining table. It wasn't long before the Queen joined him, and dinner was served. She chattered away about completely uninteresting things, which he only half listened to. Scooping up a spoonful of soup, Anakin resolved to contact Obi-Wan later tonight. He wanted to ask his former Master a few questions, and there was no doubting the older Jedi would be glad to hear from him.

* * *

><p><strong>Anakin and Riksha finally spoke to each other. :) They are each one step closer to discovering the true identity of the other... I know you are all anxious to see how that will play out. I won't say when it will happen, because I rather enjoy letting you experience the buildup. It would be unfair for me to rob you of the suspense, wouldn't it?<strong>

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, I love to know what my readers are thinking. Plus, it's nice to know people are enjoying the story. If you haven't commented on the story, I would love to hear from you too. :)**


	8. Game Changer

**Chapter 7**

"It's good to see that you're alive."

Anakin couldn't help but grin at his former master's comment. After dinner, he had practically run up to his room, eager to be away from the Queen and everyone else in this awful place. Alright, it wasn't all that bad, but every time he saw one of the slaves he felt a stir of sadness and anger somewhere within him. It was so wrong, so horribly terribly wrong, for them to be forced to work the way they were. Not a single thought ran through his mind that hadn't before, but each time the thoughts were just as powerful as the first time. There was no way to express his pure dislike -hatred even- of slavery.

Hearing the familiar voice of his most trusted friend was something Anakin desperately needed, even after just two days on this planet. Upon reaching his bedroom, Anakin had shut the door, locked it, pulled down the window shades, and drawn a curtain over the large glass doors that opened onto the balcony. Then, he had pulled out a small device, and a small blue figure had leapt forth from the face of the device. Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing, arms crossed, with a smile on his face. He too was glad that Anakin had contacted him, as he had worried day and night about the mission- and more importantly, about Anakin. Was the young Knight holding out alright? Was he managing to control his emotions? Had he figured out how to find out information? Or had he blown his cover within the first five minutes of being on the unnamed planet?

"It's good to see you too, Master," Anakin responded.

"I assume that you have found a secure place to contact me?"

"Well, I think so," come to think of it, it probably would have been wise to find somewhere a little more secure to contact Obi-Wan. Someone could easily listen in to the conversation, just by pressing an ear to the door of the room. But Anakin would surely sense anyone approaching long before they got close enough to hear anything.

"You _think so?_" Obi-Wan asked, his tone indicating he was not convinced.

"It's fine, Master, nobody will hear a thing."

Obi-Wan sighed, hoping that Anakin was right. "Alright then. What news do you have? Surely, you have something important you want to speak to me about?"

"Yes, I do. First of all, from what I've heard and witnessed this planet is even more loyal to the Separatists than we expected. Droids and cameras are all over the city. The people here talk about the Jedi in a less than preferable light," Anakin informed him.

The older Jedi frowned at this, though gave a small nod. "I expected they would be loyal," he commented grimly, "if their actions were anything to go by."

It seemed that Obi-Wan was waiting for more information, and Anakin didn't exactly have much more to say. After all, it had only been two days. "That's about the extent of my knowledge, Master. Though, I am making a map of the palace, which I will send to you when I get the chance."

"Excellent. A map will definitely be of use. Is that all then?"

"There's one more thing," Anakin hesitated, not sure exactly how to phrase what he was about to say, or rather, ask.

"Well go on then, we cannot afford to talk for longer than necessary," This was a dangerous mission, and the longer their communications were open the larger the window of opportunity was for an enemy to catch them.

"Do you recall anyone by the name of Riksha?" Anakin finally asked.

"What is the last name?" Obi-Wan inquired. "And how is this relevant to the mission?"

"I don't know the last name," the look on Obi-Wan's face prompted him to explain why exactly he had asked about this. "The Queen has an unusual slave. This slave, she is a Force user, and I think a fairly advanced one. I've never heard of a Force using slave and I am suspicious of how the Queen managed to get one."

"You fear that there may be a Separatist plot involved."

"Yes. I was wondering if you knew of anyone by the name of Riksha, and thought that maybe if we got some information on her it would help us figure out if there is a plot or something involved."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully, as he searched his mind for any trace of the name. "The only Riksha I can think of is -or rather, was- Riksha Noabbaa. She was the young Jedi Knight who died on the first mission to the unnamed planet. I suppose that is not very helpful, is it?"

The younger Jedi shook his head. "Not really, no. I-" he stopped speaking suddenly, lifting his head and turning his gaze away from the small hologram.

"Anakin? What is it?" The tone of the man whom the hologram was of took on a concerned note.

"I think someone is approaching," Anakin replied quietly, as he reached out into the Force to feel for the presence of someone. "I've got to go, Master." With that, he turned off the hologram.

* * *

><p>Riksha had noticed the way the trader, Arwyn Ghinkt, had hurried away after dinner. Over the course of the day, she had grown a bit suspicious of him and his peculiar behavior. When she was dismissed from her duties for the night, she decided to do a bit of... Snooping. She made her way up to her room, and then up to the palace roof. Here, she had an assortment of items, which she used during her training sessions. When she had a bit of spare time, she would practice both her skills in lightsaber combat and in the Force, to keep them sharp. There were several ceramic pots up here, which housed a fake lightsaber among other objects which she trained with. These pots were both to keep things tidy, and to keep the items hidden from view.<p>

Riksha reached into one of the pots, pulling out a pair of pants and a t-shirt. They were tan in color, and not the nicest looking clothes, but they were perfect for what she was about to do. After all, she could not get any of her 'good' outfits dirty. A small smile crossing her face, Riksha leapt back down to her balcony and walked back into her room. She changed quickly into this set of clothes, while going over her plan in her mind. She planned to use the air ventilation system to spy on the guest, to find out if her suspiciousness of him was ridiculous or not. When Riksha had first arrived at the palace, she had done quite a bit of exploring using the ducts, and so she knew her way around them pretty well. She hadn't really used them in a while, since she had no need to, but the idea of crawling around in them once again was rather exciting. It reminded her of the old days, when she was a padawan on some sort of mission, and had to get somewhere without being noticed.

Unfortunately, it also reminded her of her final mission, at the droid factory.

Clearing her mind of those unpleasant thoughts, Riksha turned to the vent in the ceiling of her room. It was rather small, but large enough for her to get into the ventilation system. With a wave of her hand, the grate that covered the vent was removed and placed silently on the floor. Then, she Force jumped, and entered the duct that ran through the ceiling above her room.

It took her nearly five minutes to get from her room to the guest suites. The slave quarters were in an entirely separate tower, the middle tower, while the guest suites were in the second tallest tower on the left. When she did reach the floor with the guest suites, Riksha realized she did not know which room the trader was in. She paused at the intersection in the vents, where it branched off to each of the rooms. Closing her eyes briefly, she reached out with the Force, determining which room held a life form. Identifying room 7 as the one which housed the trader, Riksha turned to her left.

After crawling for several meters more, she saw light filtering up through the vent in the ceiling of the guest's room. She also heard the faint sound of hushed voices. _Voices?_ Who could the trader be talking to? Anyone, she supposed, but for some reason this furthered her suspicion and peaked her curiosity. Silently, Riksha made her way over to the vent, until she was stationed almost on top of it. Peering down through it, she nearly gasped at what she saw. In the hand of the trader was a small device, and from that device a hologram was being emitted. A hologram of a Jedi, and one she recognized. The trader (though she was growing more and more certain that he was not actually a trader) was talking to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Riksha watched and listened to the conversation, soon coming to the realization of who the man standing in the room below was. He was certainly no trader, in fact he was extremely far from one.

* * *

><p>Anakin located someone's life force signature, and quickly zeroed in on it. Above him, in the air ducts, someone had been listening to his conversation with Obi-Wan. Without a moment's hesitation, he waved his hand, tearing the grate out of the ceiling and yanking whomever was up there out. To his surprise, (and Riksha's as well) Riksha crashed down onto the floor.<p>

"You know, a warning would have been nice," she huffed, getting to her feet. The landing was so terrible, she was almost ashamed of it. Of course, it wasn't her fault, as Anakin had been the one to use the Force and pull her down from the air duct.

No sooner had she stood up than she was thrown up against the wall.

Anakin eyed her suspiciously, hand extended, pinning Riksha to the wall using the Force. "How much did you hear?" He demanded. This slave could blow the entire mission.

"Enough," she responded, surprisingly calm for someone who was just torn out of the ceiling and thrown against a wall. Riksha wore a neutral expression on her face, contrasting the anxious one Anakin wore.

His first instinct was to break out his lightsaber and get into aggressive negotiations, but Anakin refrained. Maybe he could use a mind trick to cause her to forget what she heard... No, she was a Force user, a mind trick would never work. "You must not speak a word of this to anyone," he growled.

"I didn't plan to."

"I mean it. If you tell anyone anything-"

"I already told you, I'm not going to tell anyone," Riksha interrupted. "I gave my word. Now, Skywalker, if you would kindly put me down, I would appreciate it."

Somewhat reluctantly, Anakin lowered his hand. Riksha dropped to the ground, but this time her landing was much neater. Instead of landing in a heap on the floor, she landed on her feet.

"Thank you."

The Knight couldn't help but notice how Riksha's entire demeanor had changed. No longer quiet and compliant, she spoke confidently and met his eye when she did so. It was surprising, this change. Even if she knew he was associated with the Jedi, slaves usually acted the same way as they would around anyone else; like lowly servants. So what was up with her?

Another thought occurred to him, as she smoothed out the wrinkles that had accumulated in her shirt after her first fall. "How did you know my name?" Not once during his conversation was his last name mentioned.

"I don't know any other Anakin who is associated with Master Kenobi, do you?" Riksha responded matter-of-factly.

"How did you know that was Master Kenobi?" Sure, Obi-Wan was fairly famous, but Anakin doubted that a slave like her had ever seen a holo image of him or heard much about him, especially way out here. Why would she call him Master Kenobi as opposed to simply Kenobi or Obi-Wan Kenobi?

Riksha paused. Turning her attentions away from her attire, she looked up at Anakin. He was standing rather tensely, left hand instinctively hovering near his belt, where his lightsaber was probably hidden beneath his shirt. His expression was a mix of surprise and suspicion and confusion, as if he didn't know what to make of this young woman standing only a few meters away. She realized that even though she knew who he was, he still thought she was just another of the Queen's slaves. She had been so caught up in the fact that there was another Jedi standing before her (after all, it had been two years since she last saw a live Jedi) that she completely forgot about where they were and who she was thought to be.

With a small sigh, she contemplated what to say in response. "I know that was Master Kenobi because he and I have spoken before."

"What? How and when would _you_ have spoken to Master Kenobi?" Anakin was completely baffled by her response. Obi-Wan had never been to this planet. Nor anywhere near here.

"I suppose there is no point in hiding it now."

"Hiding what?"

"Noabbaa."

"What?" Anakin was growing frustrated with her riddles and vague answers.

"My last name," Riksha took a deep breath, "Noabbaa."

_Noabbaa..._ Anakin's eyes grew wide, and he stumbled backwards a few steps. _Riksha Noabbaa... But it can't be..._ Yet here she was, standing right in front of him. Shock radiated from the young man in waves, filling the room, drowning out any other thought or emotion.

"You're a... Jedi?"

* * *

><p><strong>The moment you've all been waiting for! Anakin knows Riksha is a Jedi! :)<strong>

**I'm hoping for a few reviews after this chapter. I am going to wait until I get at least 5 more reviews before I post the next chapter. **


	9. Accusations and Realizations

**Chapter 8**

Anakin was having a bit of difficulty processing this new piece of information. "But you're _dead!_" he stated rather stupidly.

"Do I look dead to you?" Riksha asked, folding her arms. It was somewhat amusing, watching as the young man stood there looking baffled and sounding like an ignorant child.

Indeed, Anakin felt almost like a confused child. "No..."

"Good. If you had said yes, I would have worried for both your sanity and my appearance."

Suddenly, Anakin grew almost angry. She didn't seem bothered by the fact that the universe thought that she was dead, that the Jedi thought she was dead, that he had thought she was dead. She had deceived the Jedi Council, and here she was cracking jokes about the situation and practically making fun of him. "You have a lot of explaining to do," he stated, his tone changing from bewildered to almost threatening, the way a parent or teacher might talk to a young one who had done something wrong.

Riksha was unphased by harsher edge his voice took on, though she became more serious with her next words as well. "As do you. Do you have any idea how incredibly dangerous it is for a Jedi to be here?"

"I've been in dangerous situations before," the Knight replied dryly. "I don't see a problem with my being here."

"Looks can be deceiving."

Anakin rolled his eyes at the classic lesson he had been told over and over again. "So I've heard."

"I'm serious," Riksha responded, taking a step closer to the young man while staring him down. "You shouldn't be here."

"Well that's just too bad. I'm here and I am not leaving until I get what I came for," Anakin crossed his arms stubbornly, holding his ground.

Riksha released a sigh. "Follow me, we can't talk down here, it's not safe." She turned, striding over to the balcony adjacent to Anakin's room. Looking upwards for a moment, she suddenly leapt up.

And she didn't come back down. Curious, Anakin hurried out to the balcony, peering up towards the dark night sky. Movement caught his attention, and he noticed Riksha waving at him from the top of the middle tower. Ah, a Force jump. He should have known. Glancing around to be sure there was nobody watching, he leapt up after her. With a soft thud, he landed on the roof. Straightening up, he was rather surprised by the numerous random objects and pots that lay neatly up against the walls. "Wow," he murmured.

Riksha stood in the center of the roof, spreading her arms wide and gesturing to the space around them. "Welcome to my training facility. It also doubles as a meditation center, and currently appears to be serving as a sort of conference room."

Anakin turned in a circle, looking at everything around them. It was rather impressive, that she had managed to continue training and meditating despite her unfortunate situation. Speaking of which... "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be dead."

It was Riksha's turn to roll her eyes. "Well, obviously I'm not dead."

"Do you intend on explaining exactly what you are doing here?" Annoyance was quite clear in his tone. They were talking in circles, something Anakin generally found quite infuriating.

"Maybe. But only if _you_ explain what you are doing here first."

"Why should I tell you?" The Knight challenged. By this point, the two of them were standing only a few meters away from each other, as if having a face off. "How do I know I can trust you? Maybe you've been brainwashed by your master."

"The Queen is NOT my master," Riksha replied with a ferocity that startled Anakin. "The only people whom I will honor with the title of Master are Jedi."

Anakin opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off.

"And as for _brainwashing_ I would like to remind you that I was a Jedi, same as you are, and I am not easily swayed from my beliefs."

"Well-"

"Furthermore, what could I possibly do to ruin whatever your plan is, assuming you have one? It's not like I am a very influential person on this planet."

Anakin closed his mouth, considering these words. It was true, she had no say or influence in any matters concerning anything at the moment. Though he was still bordering on being angry at her, a bit of pity began to crawl into the mix of thoughts and emotions.

Seemingly satisfied by his silence as a response to her statements, Riksha broke away from the staring contest and walked over to the edge of the roof. She leaned on the decorative wall, looking out of the city. It was not long before Anakin followed, though he stood stiffly beside her. He was not one to trust easily, and despite her arguments he couldn't help his suspicions.

"So, what is the purpose of your being here?" Riksha turned to look at Anakin, her gaze calm but expectant.

"Fine. I'm here on a liberation mission," Anakin stated vaguely with a stubborn tinge, true to his nature. "Your turn."

"I currently serve the Queen," Riksha responded. Her tone was calm and even, and her body language did not betray this. Within her mind though, hidden by her strong mental shields, was a sad undercurrent.

"I can see that. But why?" How did the Queen manage to enslave a Jedi?

A sigh followed his question. "Because I chose to."

"What?!" The Knight exclaimed incredulously. Why would anyone willingly choose to become a slave? Was this woman crazy? Having been a slave once, Anakin knew how awful it was. Slavery was one of the things that sometimes caused him to loose control over his emotions, sparking anger and resentment. Obi-Wan had tried for years to help the boy get over this, but had not yet succeeded. Now, as he stared at the slave before him, accusations and assumptions once again began to jump forth in his mind.

"You heard me," her tone was a bit more strained this time. It was painful for Riksha to think about that choice that she had made, even though she wouldn't dream of making a different decision. But Anakin did not pick up on the change in tone, since he was so caught up in his own thoughts and assumptions.

"That is about the dumbest thing I've ever heard! You lead everyone to believe you were dead so you could hang out here and serve the Queen of slave trade in this sector? Ha! I would rather die then do something like that!"

Riksha cut into Anakin's tangent, quite done with listening to his accusations. "It wasn't just my life in the line, Skywalker!"

Anakin paused, giving the former Jedi the opportunity to fit in a few more details.

"I had a choice," Riksha began, looking him in the eye to make sure he paid attention. "Sacrifice two lives," she held up two fingers to emphasize her point "or sacrifice one."

Anger began to seep away, and for the first time Anakin took notice of the faint whisper of sadness and pain that tainted the Force surrounding her. This hadn't been something she had done on purpose to deceive the Jedi, and she didn't really want to be here. Yet she had stayed this long. "I don't understand," he said slowly.

Riksha nodded, having already known from his behavior that he obviously did not understand. She turned away once more, resting her palms on the edge of the balcony and staring down at the little pools of light in the city below.

"Two years ago, just after I was Knighted, my former Master Qyu-Lyen and I traveled to the planet with an army of clones. We figured if we liberated the planet, we could put a major damper on the slave trade market. Much like what you are tasked with doing now," Riksha paused, and Anakin nodded in agreement. "We were met with heavier resistance than anticipated. But we still stood a chance, if we could take out the droid factory. That was my job. Place a few bombs and take out the factory while Qyu-Lyen fought alongside the clones. Something went wrong while we were carrying out the plan..." She trailed off, having reached the unclear part of the story. "I woke up in a hospital bed, several days later, with some pretty bad injuries. The Queen came in, and informed me that Qyu-Lyen had been captured. I was given two options: both of us die, or I stay and Qyu-Lyen goes free. You can guess what I chose."

Anakin was silent, as he absorbed her words. He felt ashamed of his thoughts and words earlier, how angry he had gotten. "You stayed so that your Master could go free, so that he could continue doing good."

Riksha nodded. "And I've tried to do as much good as I can, even though I'm stuck here."

Silence fell upon them, and for a little while they both just stood there looking out at the night, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Riksha who finally broke the silence.

"I should head down. It's getting rather late."

"I guess I should probably head back too."

With that, they parted ways for the night, each jumping off the roof and landing on their respective balconies.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey guys, sorry for taking so long to update. This chapter was tricky for some reason, and I rewrote it three times. I might do so again, I just can't seem to make it feel the way I want it to. I also hoped it would be longer, but that didn't quite happen. But enjoy what I've got so far. :) <strong>

**I'll write a note at the top if I alter it, so don't forget to check in to see if I've made any changes. **


	10. Nightmares

**Chapter 9**

Shortly after falling asleep, Anakin had been awoken by the same nightmare he had experienced the night before. Just like the previous night, he had awoken in the very early hours of the morning. _Why? What does it mean? What is it even? Why?_ These questions raced through his mind, pounding at his conscience and irritating the heck out of him. Anakin Skywalker does not enjoy feeling confused and helpless, but this was how he felt when it came to the odd memory nightmare.

After nearly breaking the water glass that sat on the table in the midst of his frustration, Anakin decided it would be wiser if he instead contemplated the new information he had acquired regarding the Queen's slave. He would have liked to contact Obi-Wan and tell the wiser Jedi all about it, but he concluded that it would not be safe to do so. So he instead paced across his room, thinking.

So, Riksha Noabbaa had traveled here with her Master, Qyu-Lyen. She was the former apprentice of the only Jedi to ever leave the planet alive. _And the only reason he left alive... Was because his former padawan stayed._ Riksha had given up her life so that Qyu-Lyen could keep his. The strength of the bond between master and padawan, as well as some serious maturity and selflessness, had lead her to make that decision. Of course, Anakin would have done the same thing. Right? Maybe. To be honest, though he cared deeply for Obi-Wan, he feared that his own selfishness might get in the way if he were ever faced with such a situation. This thought made the young Knight feel uneasy, so he promptly resolved to just not think about it. Instead, he wandered out onto the balcony.

Luckily, a slight disturbance caught his attention. _Riksha's awake._ In fact, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over just in time to see her leap up onto the roof, only to come back down moments later and disappear into her room. _Well that is certainly suspicious... My turn to do some snooping._ Turning, Anakin strode back into his room and jumped up into the ventilation system. He did not know the layout of the system, but using his senses, he was able to trace Riksha's presence and use that to find his way.

* * *

><p>Another nightmare. Riksha might not have been too worried about one, but a second occurring the next night was something to take note of. A month without the blurred memory, and here it was two nights in a row. <em>I wonder...<em> Was the memory triggered by the presence of another Force-sensitive? By interaction with another Jedi? Was it jogging her memory?

These questions gave her another idea. Riksha had heard stories of lost memories being restored when a Jedi touched their lightsaber after it had been lost. A prime example was Master Quinlan Vos.

She hadn't held a real lightsaber since that last mission. Sure, she had her fake training 'saber, but that wasn't the same as her genuine lightsaber. _Why did I not think of this before? Perhaps the same thing that worked for Master Vos and others could work for me._

Eagerly, she changed out of her nightgown and into the same snooping clothes she had worn during her chat with Anakin. Then, not wanting to waste any time, she leapt up onto the roof and retrieved the fake lightsaber. If she was going to get her real one back, she would have to switch it with the fake. Currently, her real one was sitting in a trophy room, and the Queen would almost certainly notice if it suddenly went missing. She would not, however, know the difference between the real one and the fake.

With her plan worked out in her mind, Riksha set off through the air ducts. She knew the way to the trophy room; she had discovered it early on in her stay at the palace. There was one room that housed all the outfits and lightsabers of every Jedi killed on the unnamed planet. Riksha's own were included in that collection.

Since she had a mental map of the systems, it was easy for the young woman to reach the trophy room. She turned down the first right, then made a left, went down a slight decline, turned a corned, traveled straight for about three minutes, and made another left, then went straight at a three way intersection, turned right, went down another slight decline, made another left, and she was there. A metal grate rested in front if her, and she very carefully picked it up and placed it to the side. After being careful to check for any life forms that might be in the room (there were none, of course, as it was still very early morning) Riksha swung her upper body down into the room and left her legs hooked over the side of the vent and still in the air duct. She was now hanging, upside down, from the ceiling in the trophy room.

It was really an awful place, or at least for Riksha. The Jedi outfits hung from pegs in glass cases, and looked too clean to have ever been used by anyone. Then, there were the lightsabers from all these Jedi, perched on a decorative shelf. It was easy to locate her own, as it was the first one in the line of approximately half a dozen sparkling clean lightsabers.

The reason Riksha did not just jump down was because the room was laser trapped. They zigzagged all over the room, guarding some of the Queen's most prized possessions. The lasers did not reach the ceiling (or even within about four feet of it), since the room itself was about 10 feet tall. So, as long as she was up above the lasers, Riksha figured she should be able to execute her plan without a problem. Carefully extending her hand, Riksha lifted her lightsaber from the shelf. It dodged rather gracefully between the lasers, coming up to the vent. Cool metal soon reached her waiting hand, sending tingles up her arm as Riksha touched her lightsaber for the first time in two years. But this was not the time for marveling at the lost treasure. Quickly, she placed it next to her feet, then began to maneuver the fake into its old resting place.

* * *

><p>After successfully getting lost, Anakin finally closed in on Riksha's presence. Closer, closer, there! He spotted her, and she appeared to be hanging down from the vent. What was she doing? At this hour, no less? Hardly daring to take a breath for fear of alerting her to his presence, he stayed several meters away. He planned to watch and find out what exactly she was up to. Getting found out was not a part of his improvised plan.<p>

A faint clink of metal against metal resounded through the duct, barely audible but clear as day to the Knight's fine tuned senses. _A lightsaber?_ Just after the lightsaber was placed in the duct, another was lifted and lowered into the room. _Hmm, some sort of swap, I assume._ But why? Anakin needed to see more of what was going on. Noticing another vent nearby, he scooted towards it, hoping that it was connected to the same room. But as he crawled towards it, his boot bumped into the side of the duct, causing a teeny bit of noise. Seconds later, a much louder noise filled his ears, and his heart nearly stopped. _Oh no._

* * *

><p>Riksha was maneuvering the fake 'saber into the room, carefully dodging the lasers, when a small noise caused her to break her focus. The lightsaber swayed, crossing one of the laser beams, and causing an alarm to sound. This louder wailing caused her to loose her balance completely, and she tumbled from the vent and landed on the floor of the room. She did not quite have the time to use the Force to adjust her angle, and so her landing was less than preferable. She sat up, pressing her palm to the side of her head as she did so, and then shaking it to clear her vision after the rough landing. A pair of guards came running in, and found Riksha sitting there. <em>Blast. I'm caught.<em>The lightsaber rested on the ground, a few meters away. One of the guards noticed it, and sneered.

"You wanted to be reunited with your lightsaber, huh?" He stated, almost amused. "It looks like you're about to become acquainted with a lightwhip instead."

One guard roughly yanked her to her feet, while the other placed the lightsaber back in its place. Neither noticed that the lightsaber was a fake, and neither looked upwards. If they had, they would have seen that the grate had been removed from the vent, as Riksha had not gotten the chance to place it back into position. They also would have seen Anakin, who was peering down through the opening with a panicked look on his face.

As the guards brought Riksha out of the room, she knew there was no escaping this punishment. What could she do? She should have had better sense than to think she could actually pull off the 'saber switch. One guard activated an electrostaff, jabbing Riksha with it to keep her moving. She shied away from the electricity, picking up her pace slightly. She knew where they were going. Down to the dungeon, where the more severe punishments were carried out.

Riksha had only once been down to the dungeon, and it had only been to spend a night in a cell, after she defied the Queen. It wasn't that bad of a punishment, though it was cold and dark and damp. Now, as the three entered the dungeon level, she observed more of the area. The floor was made of cold stones, as were the walls. Bits of moss grew here and there, and the only lighting came from a few torches fastened to the stone. After walking down an ominous hallway, Riksha found that the guards had taken her to a large room. It was circular in shape, with doors of metal bars placed in the walls. These opened up into the small, dark, foul-smelling cells.

The dungeon was not used for much, since it was rather old fashioned. Prisoners and criminals were kept on the detention level in a separate tower, which housed a much more high-tech facility. That included reinforced walls and ray-shields. The dungeon was only really used to scare young slaves, as it was much spookier than the detention wing.

It took only a moment for these observations to be made and processed, and so it was also not long before Riksha began to get an idea of what her punishment was going to be. In the center of the room stood a stout wooden frame, and on the wall hung a cruel looking whip. A lightwhip, with half a dozen harsh cords attached, to inflict seven hits at once instead of a single one.

Riksha was forced onto her knees, and her wrists chained to the horizontal top bar of the frame. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the guards remove the whip from the wall. It unfurled, like seven serpents hungry for the blood of their prey. Riksha took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come.

But first, the guards did a bit of gambling.

"I bet she lasts five blows, with this whip," said the first guard. "That's about the same as 35 with a regular whip."

"Maybe if she was one of the weaker slaves," responded the second, "But she's a **_Jedi_**. I say she lasts ten."

"How much are you going to bet?"

The two debated the prices they were putting on their bets, before the second guard stepped towards the slave and raised the whip.

_One._

Riksha clenched her teeth together, as seven stinging pink lines appeared on her back. Of course, they were not visible beneath her shirt, but she could clearly feel them.

_Two._

Seven new marks crossed her back, the pain doubling wherever they overlapped with the places that had been hit first.

_Three. Four._

She gripped the bar tightly with her hands, as if this would relieve the steadily growing and intensifying pain. She could feel that her shirt was beginning to stick to her back- and not because of sweat.

_Five._

Well, the first guard had lost the bet by now. Riksha was still very much conscious, though her back felt as though it were burning. Red marks were clearly visible, staining the back of her shirt.

_Six. Seven._

Now, when the whip struck, little red beads jumped up and then fell to the floor. Riksha's breath grew a bit labored, as she refused to make any noise. The satisfaction of hearing her yelp in pain was not something she was going to allow the guards.

After about the seventh or eight blow, Riksha stopped counting. She tried to ignore the pain- she had endured torture before, on the occasion that she and/or her master were captured. Pain is not foreign to a Jedi. But that didn't mean the whipping didn't hurt, and it was difficult to ignore. In fact, it hurt a lot. Soon, her vision began to blur, and the pain of the blows began to feel distant. She struggled to remain conscious. They had probably surpassed ten blows by now, (supplemented with the occasional jab with an electrostaff) and she could barely hear the mumbling of new bets being made. The voices sounded faint, and far away...

* * *

><p>One of the guards coiled up the whip, and placed it back on the wall, while the other cut the chains which bound the unconscious slave's wrists to the frame. She fell forward, crumpling to the ground.<p>

"Perhaps we overdid it. You don't think the Queen will get mad, do you?" Asked the first guard, the one who had made the lower bet.

"Nah, the slave will heal quickly. It's another one of those weird abilities. Jedi heal real fast."

A door slammed shut, as the guards exited the room and swung the metal bars into place as they left.

* * *

><p><em>This is my fault.<em>

_All my fault._

_I shouldn't have followed her._

_My fault._

Anakin had watched from the vents as Riksha was discovered and taken away to be punished. Then, he had promptly exited the duct and returned to his room, where he now was fretting about what she might endure. She was going to receive a whipping, and it was his fault for startling her and making her loose her balance. If he had just stayed in his room, this wouldn't be happening.

He had thought that he felt guilty when the young Togruta was denied dinner as a punishment for Anakin not being on time to breakfast. Well, that guilt was nothing compared to what he felt now. One missed meal pales in comparison to a full blown whipping. He wasn't sure just how severe the punishment was going to be, but he was fairly certain that trying to steal a lightsaber would not go over well, and was likely to warrant something harsh.

_And it's all my fault._

* * *

><p><strong>Well, now you've seen the darker, crueler side of this planet. So far I haven't written much about the less pleasant aspects of the society, but I figured it was important for them to be shown. Now you also see why I gave this a T rating. <strong>

**I'm glad you liked the last chapter. If you all think it's good the way it is, perhaps I won't change it. :)**

**I have set a new goal for my story: at least 3 reviews per chapter. Also, to all my guest reviewers out there, could you give yourselves names so I can tell who is who? I like knowing which reviews come from which people. ;)**


	11. Silent Vows

**Chapter 10**

"She's waking up."

Riksha heard the whisper of young voices, as she awoke and opened her eyes. To her surprise, she found herself staring at the edge of a pillow, beyond which was a pair of knees. Groaning softly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her sore back protested to this movement, as did the owner of the knees.

"No, Riksha, you gotta lie down and rest!"

"It's alright, Tarani, I'm fine," Riksha told the worried young girl. As her head cleared, she realized that she was up in her bedroom, sitting on the floor. Tarani and Puanani were sitting next to where Riksha had been lying, and so she was now facing them as she moved into an upright position. She took note of the first aid kit that rested between the girls. There was also a large scrap of fabric nearby, which Riksha raised an eyebrow at.

"We had to cut a kinda big piece out of the back of your shirt," Tarani explained. "We figured it would be easier then trying to pull it off completely."

"We tried to patch you up too," Puanani chimed in.

"I see."

Indeed, Riksha could feel that the girls had put bandages and bacta salve on her back. It was probably a pretty sloppy job, but can a person really expect two eight year olds to be expert doctors? "Say, how did I get up here?" She inquired. She was fairly certain that it was not the two guards who brought her up to her room. Most likely, they had left her in the dungeon.

"Well, me and Puanani sort of had to drag you up from the dungeon," stated the Togruta. "You might have a couple of bruises from that. Sorry."

"You two managed to drag me all the way up here all by yourselves?" Riksha asked, surprised that the two could have managed such a feat. That many flights of stairs were tiring simply to climb, let alone drag another person up them.

"Not exactly. We had a little help," Puanani said.

"Help?" Echoed a rather confused Riksha.

"Mm hmm. That guest, Mr. Ghinkt. He carried you most of the way," Tarani admitted.

"Did he?"

"Yes. But we put on the bandages all by ourselves."

"I'm sure you two did an excellent job. Thank you," Riksha praised, and the girls beamed proudly.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

"I'll get it, you have to stay there," Tarani ordered. She strode over to the door, grasping the handle and pulling it open just a crack. Outside stood Anakin, his hands clasped behind his back. He had come to check on Riksha, to see how she was doing.

Anakin had worried about what was going to happen to the former Jedi from the moment the guards had lead her away. Then, a short while later, he had decided that pacing around in his room was not going to make him feel any better. So, he had gone on a walk through the palace, wandering around aimlessly, lost in his thoughts and his guilt. _I caused this_. The thought had pounded in his mind, repeating over and over, never giving him a second to rest. About an hour into his wandering, he had detected the life force of three beings very nearby. After following it, he had stumbled upon the servant staircase. There, he discovered the two young slave girls, trying to carry (though their version of "carrying" was mostly dragging) an unconscious Riksha up the stairs.

The girls had been wary of Anakin at first, but they had finally agreed to let him help. The Knight had carefully carried Riksha back up to her room, where the girls prepped a 'bed' (which consisted of a single pillow) on the floor. He had wanted to put her on the real bed, but the Togruta had fretted about what would happen if blood got on the blankets and the Twi'Lek had explained that she would not be able to properly take care of the young woman up on a bed. So, with the nagging of two eight year olds, Anakin had complied, and then been promptly shoved out the door because "the doctor had to work." Of course, nobody had explained who the doctor was, or why he couldn't stay to help. But he figured it might be best not to argue with the determined children, and so he had returned to pacing.

When he had sensed Riksha wake up, he had returned to her room and hoped that he would be able to talk to her.

"You can't come in," Tarani informed him. "She needs to rest. Doctor's orders."

"Who's the doctor?" Anakin inquired. In truth, he was irritated with the fact that this child was telling him what he could and couldn't do. But he tried to sound patient.

"Puanani. And I'm the nurse. So you can't come in."

Riksha bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was pretty cute the way the girls had taken on the roles of doctor and nurse. It was also very sweet of them to want to try and help her heal. When Puanani turned her head to look towards Tarani, Riksha swept her hand through the air, causing the door to pull out of Tarani's hand and open fully.

"Hey!" Exclaimed the girl, who proceeded to spin around and glare at Riksha.

Puanani folded her arms across her chest. "Disobeying the doctor is not good. And you can't have visitors right now, you are supposed to be healing."

"Well, since you're a doctor, I suppose you already know that patients heal faster when they have visitors," Riksha commented, somewhat playing along with what appeared to have morphed into a game.

The look on the Twi'lek's face clearly indicated that this was not something she had known. "Of course I knew that. Tarani, let him in."

Reluctantly, Tarani stepped out of the doorway, allowing Anakin to step into the room. He didn't say anything, just stood there feeling rather awkward with two eight year olds watching him. Now, finally, he had been permitted to come see how Riksha was doing. His eyes wandered over the first-aid kit, and the piece of stained fabric which was on the floor. New pangs of guilt stabbed at him, and he avoided eye contact with the former Jedi who was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Silence grew think in the air, as everyone seemed to wait for someone else to say something first. Finally, Riksha broke the silence. "Girls, why don't you two head back to your work? We don't want the Queen to be mad at you."

"But-"

"You've done an excellent job looking after me, but you need to go back to work now."

The girls nodded, exiting the room.

Riksha watched the two disappear, a smile on her face. She then directed her attention to Anakin, who was still standing near the door. "Well, no point in just standing there. Sit down," she said, gesturing to an open patch of floor.

Anakin followed her instruction, walking forward and then sitting down on the floor. He too crossed his legs, a position that always reminded him of meditation. He searched for something to say, but again Riksha beat him to it.

"The girls told me that you helped in bringing me up here," she said. "Thank you."

"You have no reason to thank me," Anakin responded. "It was my fault you ended up down there in the first place."

Riksha furrowed her brow, quite confused by this statement. His fault? How so? "Whatever do you mean? I brought this upon myself, caught up in my excitement. I should have known better than to try a stunt like that."

"You nearly pulled it off," Anakin pointed out. "I... Followed you through the vents. I had thought it was only fair that I do a bit of spying on you, after I caught you snooping around during my call."

"Even so, I still do not see how that could have interfered with or affected anything."

"You were nearly done with the swap, when I moved. I made a bit of noise, and it startled you."

Riksha was beginning to understand now. Yes, she remembered, a faint noise had caused her to loose focus for a fraction of a second. It had been enough to ruin the entire plan. "I see."

Anakin looked down at his hands, which currently rested in his lap. "I'm sorry," he said, his words thick with guilt.

"Don't worry about it. I hold no grudge against you, nor should you be hard on yourself," Riksha stated. "Besides, it's merely flesh wounds. I will be perfectly fine in a day or so."

Anakin lifted his head suddenly, watching the woman in front of him. His eyes examined her expression, he sensed the Force around her, and found himself quite astonished by her attitude. "How do you do it?" He inquired.

"Do what?"

"You're not in the slightest bit angry?"

"Anger is not the Jedi way. Anger leads to-"

"Yeah yeah I know, don't go quoting Master Yoda to me," Anakin interrupted. "But how can you live like this and not get angry? How can you just forgive the guards, the Queen, everyone, and dismiss such incidents as this one as mere flesh wounds?"

Riksha was quiet for a moment, contemplating what she should say. In truth, she did feel angry sometimes. Such as the previous day, when the Queen had been scolding Tarani. But she always tried to extinguish the anger whenever it tried to show its face. She felt like if she didn't, if she allowed herself to dwell on negative thoughts, she would be a failure. She would have failed the Jedi, and her beloved Master. _So my fear of failure is what keeps my emotions in check. How ironic_. Then, another thought occurred to her. _But the reason I do not want to fail is because of my care and respect for my Master and the Jedi. So that's not really fear, is it? I just want to uphold what I have been taught, what I believe as a Jedi_. "Because I want to uphold the Jedi teachings, even if I am not exactly a Jedi at the moment. It is not the Jedi way, it is not _my_ way, to harbor anger and hold grudges."

Anakin just stared at her, partially in awe at that sort of attitude. Sure, he had heard similar words out of the mouths of many Jedi. But here sat a Jedi, now a _slave_, saying that she strictly followed the Jedi teachings. _How is it that in all my training, with all of Obi-Wan's guidance, I still have not managed to control my anger, yet Riksha, living what I consider to be one of the worst lives possible, has?_

_She would have made an amazing Jedi. Her master must have been very proud when she was knighted._

Coming out of his thoughts, Anakin noticed that Riksha was using the Force to clean up a bit. The fabric was crushed into a ball, which was tossed in the trash. The first-aid kit was properly packed up, since the girls had made a bit of a mess. The pillow was returned to the bed.

"Does your back hurt much?" Anakin asked, still feeling guilty, despite what Riksha had said.

"I suppose, yes," Riksha answered honestly. "But pain is not foreign to a Jedi. I have endured worse, and I am sure you have as well."

Anakin nodded. He had been captured and tortured before, and he supposed in the grand scheme of things Riksha's whipping wasn't the worst thing in the universe. Suddenly, remembering the second reason why he had come to visit, Anakin reached into one of his shirt pockets and pulled out a silver cylinder. "Well, at least your little heist wasn't a complete failure." Uncurling his fingers from around the object, he stretched out his hand towards her, offering it to her.

When Riksha saw her lightsaber, her eyes lit up like a child on a holiday. Reaching out, she grasped the cool metal, lifting it and turning it over in her hands. Then, on an impulse, she flicked the switch and a lovely green blade leapt forth, humming a warm hello to an old friend it hadn't seen in years.

Riksha stared joyously at the lightsaber for a moment, the blade casting a gentle glow on her face, before turning it off again. "Thank you," she said, gratitude and happiness dancing in her tone. It was a simple phrase, but anything more would have seemed out of place.

Anakin smiled, relaxing a bit, as if returning the lost treasure cleared him of his debt that he felt he owed after he messed up her plan. "You left it in the vents."

Riksha nodded. She remembered, and actually part of the reason she had lifted the real lightsaber before lowering the fake was so that if she got caught, she could venture back into the vents and retrieve the 'saber later. Abruptly standing, she walked out onto the balcony.

"Wait- what are you doing?" Anakin inquired, stopping her as she was about to jump.

"I'm going to meditate," she replied simply, before disappearing upwards.

Once she was gone, Anakin stood up, walking towards and then out of the door to her room. Casting one last glance over his shoulder, a bit of a smile and a look of determination crossed his face as he made a silent vow.

_Not would have. __Will__._

* * *

><p>"She did <em>what?!<em>"

"She tried to take her lightsaber from the trophy room," stammered a slightly terrified looking guard as he stood before a furious Queen.

The Queen was quite angry indeed. How _dare_ that girl try and pull off a stunt like that! "I assume she was punished accordingly," the Queen stated, her tone almost threatening.

"Yes of course, your Majesty."

"Good," The Queen sat back in her throne, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. "It seems that her loyalty is wearing thin... Perhaps her original source of motivation is no longer sufficient." These words were accompanied by a thoughtful silence. "But what to motivate her with?"

"If I may, your Majesty," the guard paused, then continued when the Queen nodded, "she seems to care a good deal about the younger slaves, that Togruta in particular."

These words were pondered momentarily. Then, an unsettling smile spread across the Queen's regal face. "Yes... I think I know how to motivate her."

_She _**_will_**_ remain under my command._

* * *

><p><strong>Woohoo! We have reached chapter ten! :D<strong>

**I hope everyone is enjoying the story! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I went ahead and posted this chapter before I reached my review goal, since I was so excited to post this chapter. Plus, I thought it only fitting that the tenth chapter be posted on the tenth day of the month. :)**


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